The Rose & Crown
by Psyrhen
Summary: The Doctor and Clara find themselves trapped inside of a bootstrap paradox loop. Will they have what it takes to get out? Be warned - This is an epic tale filled with mystery, passion, revenge, and lust. For those of you that like instant gratification, this story is not for you. Those who prefer to skip ahead... do so at your own risk. Some of the chapters will be rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _Cumbria, 1212 A.D._

The sound of men screaming filled the cold winter air, exhaling their final breath as their bodies fell to the last place their living matter would touch before their souls descended into the next world. Within the holy walls of the sacred monastery, a trembling man cloaked in brown robes stood in the middle of a stone-walled room staring at the bolted wooden door in front of him. The unfamiliar sound of a weapon he could never even imagine was heard from far behind it as it slaughtered the men he had known and befriended his entire life. The assailant's footsteps drew closer to his location. The men whose voices he knew by heart were pleading for their lives as their executioner showed no mercy in its wake.

In his shaking hands, he clung to a parchment of great importance to its bestower. One that he had never dared to read. The footsteps drew closer until they met the other side of the door and stopped. The screams of his brothers had ceased leaving him alone in anticipated silence of what was to come. He held his breath and prayed to his God that whatever demon was behind the door would not find him. The latch stirred under the pressure of its holder yet did not yield at its attempts to open it. When all was most quiet and still, the man let out a sigh of relief as the being appeared to have given up on its quest to enter.

Suddenly the door burst open in a wave of horror unknown to any living man. Its shattered contents flung themselves throughout the room in all directions. Upon the settling dust, the robed man found himself face to face with the most unlikely of spirits. As the female proceeded towards him, the frightened holy man fell to his knees in terror.

"Please," he begged for his life, holding out his message to her as an act of good faith that he would be spared from the madness he had found himself in.

The creature approached him, her dark laced heels grinding into the crevices of the stone flooring. Her robes, unknown to his world, swayed in motion with each of her footsteps. The beast lowered herself to him. Her eyes pierced his soul with the vision of true hell itself. Her hand reached out and snatched the parchment with her clawed fingers to free it from his petrified grasp. Returning to her natural stance, she pried the letter open with her sharp talons and removed its contents from within.

"Y-You... you're one of... __them__... aren't you," the monk stuttered in his fluent tongue and pointed towards a spot on the wall where the portrait of a familiar figure was painted.

The creature took notice of the unusual mural bearing half a decade's worth of dust upon its mantel. The bust of a girl she knew very well inscribed with a passage only one other person in the known universe could have written, "Run you clever boy, and remember." __Oh, Doctor,__ she thought, __you hopeless romantic__. The demon brought her attention back to the fallen man. She glanced at the rosary draped around his neck and nearly laughed at its irony. Drawing her weapon from her blouse, she aimed it at the expendable casualty in front of her.

"May God forgive you," the mortal man uttered his last words to his destroyer as her instrument of execution ended his lifespan. No God of his would be able to save him now.

A satisfied Missy opened the letter in front of her and read through its contents with great anticipation. Upon examining its instructions, she frowned at its anti-climactic wording, "Open the door. _"_ She raised a curious brow and thought to herself, __Door? What door?__ Just then, an unusual banging was heard originating from the monastery's grand entrance that resonated throughout the once silent stone halls. Someone, or something, was knocking.

 _ _Bang, bang, bang!__

She spun on her heel and headed towards the sound following it back through her destructive path. As she stepped over the bodies and limbs of the men she had put out of their misery, the knocking continued to call to her.

 _ _Bang, bang, bang!__

The noise grew louder as she drew closer to the source's location. Working her way through the wake of devastation she had left the sanctuary in, she couldn't help but think to herself that had the Doctor not abandoned her back on Skaro forcing her to escape to this deplorable place, the lives of these pathetic humans could have been spared from her wrath.

 _ _Bang, bang, bang!__

As she entered the large cathedral-like room, she discovered the doors to which the sound had been coming from. She cautiously approached feeling a sense of exhilaration over the unknown and potentially dangerous possibilities of what could be on the other side. As she reached the doors, the banging ceased leaving her in silence once more. Reaching for the handle, she hesitated for only a moment and thought to herself that whatever was out there could never be quite as frightening as she. Turning the handle, she opened the door to the outside world.

To her surprise, there was no one there. A part of her feared it was all in her head. That the knocking had somehow come to replace the incessant drums that had once plagued her mind her entire life and finally stopped towards the end of her last body. Had it not been for the strangely foreign noise coming from below her gaze, she would have simply closed the door and retreated back behind the walls of the monastery. Peering down towards her feet, she discovered an unusual kind of woven capsule covered with quilted linens.

"A present? How delightfully thoughtful. And it isn't even my birthday," she exclaimed aloud to no one in particular. Stepping outside, she looked around for any sign of another living being who may have left the "gift" to her yet found nothing but the familiar sight of a dozen corpses lying in the last position she had left them in. As she scanned the landscape for a possible caravan or transport of any kind, an unexpected startling whimper exhaled from inside the wicker pod. Her attention was turned towards the sound, standing perplexed by the strange object in front of her. She knelt down and hesitantly peeled back the cloth concealing its secrets within. A small gasp escaped her lips, finding herself utterly shocked at what she saw before her.

* * *

Works Cited

"The Bells of Saint John." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Colm McMarthy, season 7, episode 6, BBC One, 30 March 2013.

"The Witch's Familiar." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Hettie MacDonald, season 9, episode 2, BBC One, 26 September 2015.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _Present Day_

Running late again, always late. Clara rushed around her small flat making sure she had everything she needed for her date with Danny Pink. She hardly noticed the now even smaller cramped living room as she squeezed her way passed the blue box parked in the middle of the floor. She was so used to seeing the TARDIS there it had practically become part of the decor. Slipping on a pair of black high-heeled shoes, she passed through the hall and into her bedroom. She ignored the old man in her kitchen observing her small washing machine as it spun around in circles. He had been making a habit of showing up unannounced the past few months. At any other time, she would have dropped everything and gone running at full speed towards the open doors of the smaller-on-the-outside time machine. But not tonight.

"The Satanic Nebula," the Doctor shouted towards the other side of the wall, "or the lagoon of lost stars! Or we could go to Brighton." He followed the sound of her shoes tapping around in the next room and stopped at the entrance of her bedroom. "I've got a whole day worked out!" He watched obliviously as she stood at the mirror applying what he could only assume was some sort of reddish war paint to her lips.

She placed the cap back on her lipstick and continued to overlook his existence. "Sorry but, as you can see, I've got plans." She grabbed her jacket and placed it on.

A confused look passed over his furrowed face. Since when did his companion have anything better to do than travel with him at his every beck and call? "Have you?" he inquired, failing miserably at sounding interested.

"Look at me," she requested, finally acknowledging him for the first time all evening.

"Yeah, okay," he replied. A test maybe?

"No, no, no. Like, no. Look at me." She signalled to her hair and clothing.

"Yep, looking." Definitely a test, but what could he be missing? If he could figure out how to hide his entire home planet from the Daleks and even himself, surely he could figure out this one woman's ambiguous clues.

"Seriously?" Giving up on his frustrating cluelessness, she checked the mirror one last time.

"Why is your face all coloured in? Are you taller?" he wondered, still working out if he was getting warmer or not.

"Heels." She lifted her foot to reveal one of her black heightened shoes.

"What, do you have to reach a high shelf?" he asked, feeling as if he was getting close to solving this mystery.

"Right, got to go. Going to be late!" Time machine or not, there were just not enough hours in the day for her to explain why humans tended to dress up from time to time to go out with each other when the importance of making a good impression was involved. She grabbed her keys and headed for the front door.

"For a shelf?" he called out, trying to stall her.

"Bye!" She reached for the knob and began to turn it when a strange sound was heard coming from the living room. A telephone ringing. But it was not her telephone, it was the TARDIS emergency line. Her curiosity got the better of her. Sighing, she released the handle and slowly made her way towards the sound of the ringing phone. The Doctor stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed upon the blue box in the room. The TARDIS phone hardly ever rang, but when it did it nearly always meant something bad was about to happen. Her heart beat slightly faster as she wondered who or what could be calling him. Another adventure maybe? She could almost taste the excitement emanating from the unknown. __No!__ She thought, shaking the sudden urge to stay from her head. __Not this time__. If she ever had any hope of living a normal life between near-death experiences and saving the world, she would have to know when to walk away. "There you go, you've got another playmate," she noted, trying to sound as uninterested as possible as she started back for the door. The phone continued to ring.

"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," he baited her.

"Well, I've got it."

"Yes, from some woman in a shop. We still don't know who that was." The mystery of the unknown woman with the emergency TARDIS number had eaten away at his thoughts ever since the day Clara first called him. A mystery in which there were no leads other than an unfamiliar face and a piece of paper.

"Is that her now?" She felt herself being drawn back to the sound of the phone, suddenly realizing she was being pulled into his unavoidable trap. But she could not free herself from her curiosity.

"There are very few people that it __could__ be." He entered the room and approached the TARDIS.

Clara watched as he opened the small outer hatch concealing the phone. His hand reached inside towards the receiver. "Don't," she cautioned nervously.

"Why not?"

"Because, if you answer it, something will happen." Something she knew would most certainly interrupt her much anticipated date with Danny.

"What?"

"A thing."

"It's just a phone, Clara," he assured her, ignoring her ridiculous worrying over nothing. He reached his hand back into the compartment, "Nothing happens when you answer the phone." He picked up the receiver and placed it next to his ear.

* * *

Works Cited

"Time Heist." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Thompson and Steven Moffat, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 8, episode 5, BBC One, 20 September 2014.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Clara struggled to open her eyes. Bright ambient lights began to pierce the darkness she had found herself in. The resonance of people laughing, the murmured voices heard from unfamiliar faces, the sound of clinking glasses all filled her ears. Her eyes strained to focus on her surroundings like peering through dark murky water. Faintly, somewhere amongst the crowded sea of people, she could hear the Doctor's voice in only but a whisper.

" _Clara._ "

Her eyes began to adjust. The blurred visions of rapid movement from all around her slowly took form as if she had been looking through the lens of an unfocused eyeglass. The murmuring once heard before began to translate. The vast and seemingly endless crowd of people were taking on a more definite shape. The walls started to set themselves, a glossy floor could be seen below her feet. Again she heard the familiar voice of the Doctor calling out to her, closer now.

" _Clara._ "

At last, she could see everything. A party of sorts, a ballroom perhaps. Paired couples in formal-dress were moving back and forth to the rhythm of song. Yet something was different, something strange. No details dispersed in the large room suggested where or even when she was. __How did I get here__ , she thought? __What is this place?__ The people in the room consisted of none she recognized, a mix of human and alien alike. A terrible feeling started to befall her as she realized everyone in the room had all been staring at her mid-dance. Their heads were strangely postured and directed towards her. It was then she realized she was also dancing but had yet to notice with whom.

A startling noise suddenly sounded near her unlike anything she had ever heard. A low screeching as if whatever it came from had found its prey. Her heart, heavy with fear, pounded in her chest as she slowly turned to face her dance partner for the first time. To her horror, standing directly beside her was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen; something out of nightmares. A ghostly grey-coloured hooded spectre, which could only be compared to a reaper of death, floated like smoke and ash in her arms. Its face neglect of eyes and teeth like dark shattered glass pulled her in as if by hypnosis. She was frozen with fear. Her hands were entwined in its cold dead-like taloned fingers. The creature opened its mouth and from it came the distinctly unforgettable sound of the Doctor's voice loudly calling out to her once more.

" _ _CLARA!__ "

The spectre lunged at its victim and then there was darkness.

* * *

She awoke gasping for breath as if being saved from drowning. Her head, still fuzzy from the nightmare, started to settle as she consumed her new surroundings. The control room of the TARDIS, a most welcomed sight to her at the moment. Across from her sat the Doctor leaned far away from the centre console. For the first time in the past few months, his face left her with a certain calmness that almost made her entirely forget all that had led up to that point. Her eyes met his. His face showed signs of confusion and worry to which she matched as she tried to recall how she had gotten there.

And then she saw it, plain as day, lying inches from her hand on the console. A giant worm of sorts the length of her forearm was slowly and blindly feeling its way over the buttons and knobs in front of her. She let out a scream and backed her chair away from the creature. "Doctor?!" she called, instinctively feeling the urge to smack the worm off the console.

"Don't touch it!" he ordered.

Her head started to ache as she tried to remember the last thing she had done before awakening on the time machine. "We're on the TARDIS. How did we get here? And what is __that?!__ " she demanded, pointing at the insect draping itself over the controls.

"It's a memory worm, deletes your memories."

She could sense a hint of uncertainty and frustration in his mannerisms, suddenly realizing he was staring at a second worm in front of him. "Okay, but where did they come from? Why are they here?"

"I don't know. I woke up the same as you. I've been trying to wake you for some time."

"Yes, I could hear you. I don't know how, but heard your voice in my dream."

"I'm not so sure that was a dream." He nervously bit his thumb, deep in thought.

She took the opportunity of momentary silence to familiarize herself with any other possible signs of things not having been there before. Of those unfamiliar things, she noticed their attire had changed. She gazed down the length of her to find she was clothed in a sparkling gold-coloured tightly fitted cocktail dress with matching shoes. Both of which she had never seen before. Looking back towards him, she observed his customarily donned hooded jacket and dark trousers had been replaced by a black three buttoned tuxedo and tie. "You're wearing a tuxedo," she noted with a smile after considering the fact that she hadn't recalled this version of himself ever wearing formals in her presence before.

"So it would seem," he replied. After a moment, he stood from the console and rummaged around the room for particular items, gathering a pair of padded gloves and a large zippered bag.

"Do you remember anything?" She watched as he hurried along the levels of the TARDIS control room. "Anything at all? Like maybe why we look as though we're receiving an award for the best-dressed time-travelling dynamic duo?"

"No. Yes. Well, _maybe_." He returned to the console and placed the gloves on each hand. He carefully removed the worms and placed them delicately into the bag. "But I can't be certain until I discover what course of actions brought us here. Until then, I suggest you return to your life as normal and wait for my call. It may take some time to trace all this back to its point of origin."

"'Return to my life'? How d'you mean? I want to know what happened just as much as you do."

"Well, according to the TARDIS, we've arrived just prior to your big __date__." He placed his arm around the small of her back and herded her towards the doors. "We wouldn't want to keep the poor lad waiting now, would we?"

"Oh my god!" Her head fell into her hands as her consciousness caught up with her. "I completely forgot!" She then faced the Doctor and pointed an angry finger towards him. "I _knew_ this would happen! I told myself, 'Not this time Clara Oswald. Don't let the Doctor do what he does best!'"

"And what might that be?"

"Meddle with everything!"

Opening the door for her, she stepped back into her living room to discover it looked just the way she remembered it. "And Clara," he added as she spun around to meet his gaze, "wait for me." Then he simply nodded his farewell and closed the door to the TARDIS.

* * *

Works Cited

"Time Heist." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Thompson and Steven Moffat, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 8, episode 5, BBC One, 20 September 2014.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Six weeks had passed since the doors to the TARDIS closed and left her in her flat to resume her life as if nothing had happened. No calls, no hidden messages, no whirring of the time-machine manifesting in her living room nor anywhere else for that matter. Not a single clue to the Doctor's whereabouts in all that time. Was he alive? Dead? Trapped on some planet billions of light-years from her? As often as she tried to hide the dreaded thoughts that found their way into her mind, there was no one else she could turn to. No one who would understand.

" _ _How am I doing? Well, for one, my time-travelling space alien not-boyfriend is probably off being tortured somewhere or trying to save an entire species from extinction and he's abandoned me here while he's off gallivanting the universe without me! But thanks for asking!"__

The ridiculous nature of that one-sided conversation was enough to bring even the smallest amount of humour into her clouded thoughts. As difficult as it had been to resume her life "as normal", she could not dissuade the constant reminder that he hadn't come back. It was a feeling she just couldn't shake. Such as when an empty cup once containing your favourite beverage had been drained of its final drop and sat next to you at the table for some time. Every so often you pick it up to take a sip, only then to experience the saddened reminder that it is vacant of any liquid. That is what it felt like to be without the Doctor while trying to pretend his very existence, or lack thereof, had not altered her life in any way.

As she stood in front of her students lecturing on the importance of literature throughout human history, she couldn't help but think to herself that as many adventures as she had been through, as many stars and planets and species she had seen past even the ending of the Earth itself, time had barely passed for anyone else. Yesterday's homework, which felt as if it had been assigned years before, was simply today's paperwork to be marked. It remained a constant struggle to keep her own living timeline in order, let alone the many she encountered throughout her travels with the Doctor.

Though her physical body remained a teacher at the Coal Hill School, her mind wandered aimlessly as her students read experts from their current works. Even her love life, if she could call it that, was suffering as Mr Pink continued to comment on her absent-mindedness as of late. Fooling him into believing there was nothing the matter proved more difficult than trying to understand all that was and is the Doctor.

"That was great, Samuel. Thank you. Would anyone else like to read their work?" Several of the students raised their hands. "Let's see. Okay, Marie. If you don't mind." The girl stood and began to address the class with her most recent writing.

Clara took a seat at her desk to jot down a few notations while the girl read aloud. Trying to keep the thoughts of her best friend out of her head, she couldn't help but peer down at her phone for which felt like the hundred-thousandth time since she last saw him. No missed calls, no messages, just nothing. The urge to call him always lingered in her mind but she resisted as she knew that when he was ready she would know. Feeling the sadness overwhelming her, she tried to concentrate on her work.

Suddenly there was a faint tapping coming from the viewing window of the classroom door. At first she thought it was nothing, just her mind playing tricks on her as none of the other students lifted their heads in acknowledgement of the sound. Then she heard it again. A distinct tapping noise coming from the hall. And then she saw him, as sure as there are stars in the sky, standing on the other side of the window waving at her. The Time Lord.

 _ _Seriously? Here? Now?!__ She could barely even contain her anger as she silently mouthed the words "go away" through gritted teeth. She raised a hand signalling to him that she was in class doing her job and there were students to teach.

"Miss Oswald, shall I go on?" the girl asked, taking notice of her teacher's distracted gaze.

"Yes! Sorry, Marie. Please continue," she replied, trying her hardest to ignore the old man's impatient pacing back and forth from behind the closed door. The anger was building up inside of her as she thought about how much worse his timing could possibly be.

"Miss Oswald?" another student began.

"Yes, James. What is it?"

"I think the caretaker is trying to get your attention."

Clara sighed then looked towards the door where the Doctor was waving his hands signalling for her to come out. "Well, I suppose I'll go see what he wants then. Excuse me a minute, be right back. Oh, and uh, just keep reading, Marie." She approached the door, eyes squinted and fuming towards the Doctor. She opened the door and exaggeratedly greeted the man dressed in a caretaker's uniform. "Ah yes, Mr Smith! How may I help you?" She waited until the door was closed then lowered her voice to return to her natural state. "What are you doing here! Where the hell have you been?! You know what, I don't even want to know. I can't even believe you!"

"Clara, I need you to come with me. Right now." His hurriedness did little to derail her anger.

"Oh hello, Clara!" she imitated his voice in her best Scottish accent. "Sorry I've been gone for six weeks without ringing and dumped you off here without any explanation to where I've been in all that time. What d'you say we go out for some chips and pretend like this whole thing never happened, eh?"

"How can you possibly think of food at a time like this?! Wait, did you say six __weeks__?"

"Yes, idiot! Six weeks! For all I knew you could have been dead! Do you even understand how cross I am with you?!"

"Never mind that. Listen, Clara. I think I've stumbled onto a clue to our memory loss. But you need to come with me immediately!"

"Doctor, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm in the middle of class."

"And? Just let the little pudding-brains take over! Look, that one there," he pointed to Marie who was continuing to read to the class, "she looks like she could handle things in your stead."

"Unlike you, Doctor, I'm not abandoning my students whom I care about to go on some worm chasing escapade with you!" she fumed, trying not to raise her voice any louder than she should.

"Fine!" he conceded. "Meet me after your class in the caretaker's building. This is a matter of utmost importance!"

* * *

Clara approached the caretaker's building being careful not to attract any attention to herself. She casually monitored her surroundings and when she felt there were no peering eyes she opened the door. Inside was all that could be expected of a caretaker's managings. Spare linens, a few brooms strewn about, and in the corner appearing as though it had always belonged there was the TARDIS. She placed a hand upon its closed doors letting it know of her presence and thought to herself how much she missed the old girl. With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and stepped inside to prepare herself for what was to happen next.

"Ah, Clara! Good, you're here!" came the Doctor's voice, his face half hidden from behind the time rotor. He hurried over to her, took her by the arm, and gently dragged her to the middle of the room. "Tell me, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Well, let's see," she started, still unbelievably cross with him, "first you showed up to my school, interrupted my class, called my students pudding brains-"

"Yes yes, __before__ that!" he interrupted. "Before the memory worms."

"I dunno. I remember being at home, getting ready for my date, then _you_ showed up in my living room…" She strained to recall all that had happened that night.

"Anything else?" he tested her, trying to determine how far back this all started.

"And then… then the TARDIS phone rang."

"Precisely! The phone rang! Don't you see, Clara? That's where this all began! The moment I picked up the phone, the start of an entire night we don't even remember occurred!"

"I don't understand." She tried to let go of her frustration over the past six weeks of her life to become what he needed from her at that moment the most. To be his companion. "The __phone__ deleted our memories?"

"I'm afraid it goes much deeper than that," he attempted to explain. "The phone call was just a fixed point in time. It's everything after that which has been altered. If I hadn't answered the phone, you would have gone off to your date as if nothing had happened. But something __did__ happen, Clara."

She stood silently staring at the man in front of her trying to decide if she was supposed to speak next. Yet she couldn't think of a single thing to add to his wild detachment from the reality in which she was living.

He sighed heavily. He knew he had hurt her. He asked her to wait and wait she had without ever knowing if he would be coming back for her. One of the most difficult parts of being the Doctor was not being able to understand the fragility of human emotions. "Clara, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you here. That I was not there for you." He struggled to find the words to express exactly what he was feeling at that moment. For him, time could pass in the blink of an eye. But for everyone else, for Clara, well, without him she was living her life on the slow path as if each day were an eternity. "I've spent the last six weeks trying to retrace our steps hoping they'd lead me to an answer," he continued. "The data to the TARDIS was deleted either by force or with purpose. There's no record of us having even left your flat. I searched everywhere for even the smallest trail of breadcrumbs that would explain what happened that night." He studied her face hoping for any amount of reassurance that somewhere inside that stubbornness of hers she could find it in her heart to forgive him. "I was at a loss, until I found this." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small rectangular sheet of paper to hand to her. "I found it inside the breast pocket of my tuxedo. I have no memory of how it got there."

Clara reluctantly read the inscription on the face of the paper aloud, "You're invited. We welcome you to join us during the Prima Nova Biannual Charity Auction Ball." She reread the card a few more times in her head, the frown on her face deepening each time she read it. "That's it? That's all there is? Just an invitation to a party?"

"Not just any party, it's __the__ party. The one we attended six weeks ago, the one we can't remember."

"So, what do we do? Go back in time and attend the event to see what happened to us?"

"Unfortunately, no. We can't risk running into our past selves. It could create a rift in the fabric of time."

"Alright, so now what?" She tried to keep up with the fast-paced thoughts of her best friend.

"The answer is right there in front of you! It says 'biannual', as in more than one!" The Doctor was on the move creating laps around the console, pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"Okay, so…" She started to understand what was going through that daft mind of his.

"So... we simply go __forward__ in time and attend the next event. Surely whomever originally gave me this invitation will be there. It's the best option we have to figure out who might have been involved in all of this."

"We're going now?!" She realized what a silly question that was almost immediately after asking it. Of course he meant now.

"Well, not like __this__ we aren't," he noted, gesturing to their appearance.

* * *

Works Cited

"The Caretaker." _Doctor Who_ , written by Gareth Roberts and Steven Moffat, directed by Paul Murphy, season 8, episode 6, BBC One, 27 September 2014.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Clara had always been impressed by the selection of clothing available to her in the ship's wardrobe. The items she found in there consisted of such created by the TARDIS herself or those that had been left behind by the Doctor's previous companions. Either way, they had always excelled in their knowledge of well-fashioned taste when it came to providing her with disguises to accompany him on his travels. Whether it be the year nineteen hundred or forty thousand, the old gal certainly knew how to treat a girl. Although this time she may have outdone herself a bit.

Having searched for quite some time through the ever changing ever relocating "closet", her heart jumped when she saw the dress. Champagne in colour, the floor-length fabric was entirely embroidered with tiny sparkling silver patterned jewels from the modestly draped straps over her shoulders to the tips of her clear heeled shoes. Gazing at her finished form in the mirror, the dress seemed to embrace her with an ethereal glow. A part of her shook the thought that a particular dress of this nature might be too fashionable for a girl such as her. She exited the wardrobe and headed for the control room where the Doctor had told her to meet him. Hesitating for only a moment to regain her confidence, she lifted her skirt above her shoes and climbed the metal stairs towards the heart of the TARDIS.

"Finally!" the Doctor exclaimed after hearing her soft footsteps approaching him from behind. "You've been down there nearly an hour!" He spun around to face her, "What on Earth took you so-?" And then he saw her, _ _truly__ saw her. Her presence in the room suddenly cleared him of all thought and speech. He had travelled with her an uncountable amount of times. From the past to the future and beyond even that. And yet, she had always remained the same Clara to him no matter what version of her he was with. Always his impossible girl. There was no one else he would rather have by his side than her. He cared for her more deeply than he would ever dare to admit. All the dangers he had put her through, all the incidences in which he thought he had lost her had been even more unbearable each time. He fought to keep the feelings he had for her from himself and anyone they had ever encountered together from the moment he first laid eyes upon her in his previous form. He felt that somewhere buried deep inside of his own stubbornness she would never accept him in this body as she did with his last. This furrowed old man he had become could never compete with the love she still carried in her heart for his younger self. It was better this way. Emotions are dangerous. There were far too many enemies in the universe willing to take advantage of a weakness so great.

Something inside of him was freed from its forgotten place as she approached him. A feeling he thought he would never have for anyone else. He couldn't tear himself away from her magnificent grace. She could light up every star in the sky or power an entire world with just the look in her eyes at that moment. He could feel the electricity emanating in the air through the palms of his hands. The deafening silence in the room could only be tamed by the delicate sound of her shoes tapping on the metal floor. He watched her approach until she was but an arm's length in front of him. "You look, uh…" were the only words he could manage.

"Is it too much?"

"No. Um-"

"It's too much, isn't it," she responded nervously, beginning to feel foolish.

"No, no! Well, I mean, it's not __bad.__ For a girl who can't even tie a tie correctly. But I suppose the dress will have to do," he humoured her, attempting to maintain a hold over his emotions.

"Thanks." She knew that was the closest to a compliment from him as she was going to get. She noticed he had taken the time to groom himself in her absence. A characteristic he hadn't seemed to have adapted very often in this body, if at all. Yet something about the way he looked in his tuxedo warmed her from within as if she were standing beside an open flame during the dead of winter. All the anger she felt earlier in the day and the past several weeks had suddenly melted away leaving no trace of its former existence. The warm feeling inside of her began to grow more intense as she stepped closer to him, their shoes nearly touching. "I could say the same about you," she pointed out, slowly reaching up to straighten his tie.

His eyes watched her every move. His hearts began to race at the feeling of her fingers grazing along the outside of his collared shirt. He gazed down at the top of her head as she perfected his slightly skewed necktie. The closer she was to him the more he could feel the electricity making its way throughout his body. There was something different about her, something he hadn't noticed before. Not strange, per se, a rather enjoyable feeling actually. A warmth about her. He could feel the tiny hairs on his arms rise underneath the sleeves of his jacket. A very faint almost entirely unnoticeable connection to his telepathic abilities could be detected. __Is she somehow reading my mind?__

"Well!" He nervously pulled away from her grasp and quickly moved to the console. He feared he may have endured her closeness for too long. If she __had__ been reading his mind, there was no doubt he may have let some thoughts slip by he shouldn't have. Trying to distract himself, he made a few adjustments to the computer. "Shall we?" He extended a hand towards her. He could sense her reluctance, possibly having to do with the day's previous conflict between them. The look of uncertainty in her eyes. He knew he had tampered with her trust in him. There was only one way to make it right. "Clara Oswald, I would be deeply honoured if you would accompany me as... my date," he requested, offering a bent arm for her to accept if it pleased her. Clara smiled, the same smile that drove him into the deepest parts of his sanity. Accepting his offer, she interlocked her arm in his and prepared to be transported to the next adventure. Matching her smile with his own, he pulled down on the lever next to him and sent the time machine to its instructed coordinates.

* * *

 _Prima Nova_

The TARDIS materialized into the medium-sized vacant room. The door opened and the Doctor poked his head out from within to examine their new surroundings. Once it was decidedly safe, he exited the box as Clara followed closely behind.

"Well, this is exciting!" She took hold of his arm with her own. The anticipation of what was out there sent a sense of thrill throughout her body. Every time they had encountered the unknown together there had always been a feeling of excitement mixed with a small amount of fear of what they might come across. But this time felt different. Being with him made her feel again, truly __feel__ like a part of his life. "It's as if we are solving our own mystery! Just the lot of us. Like Sherlock Holmes!"

"Yes, well, if only Sir Conan Doyle had known the true identity of whom he really based his main character on, I'd bet he'd have looked a little more green, and had scales, and was actually a woman," he replied, remembering his past adventures with Vastra, Jenny, and Strax. Back when he felt the universe didn't need him to be the Doctor anymore. Back when he had given up all hope. "Besides, their mysteries were nothing but child's play in comparison to what I've seen in my lifetime. Imagine the pair of them encountering an army of Cybermen back in their day. What a great story that would have been to tell the kiddies."

They approached the extraordinarily large double doors to the room in which they were standing. They were at least two stories in height and several arm lengths wide. A questioning look appeared on his face as he took out his sonic-screwdriver and attempted to scan the door. Other than being made of wood, in which the screwdriver lacked in its abilities, there was nothing else he would usually be concerned about. Except these doors appeared brand new as if they had just been installed, unlike the other walls in the room or the ancient relics hosted inside of it.

"Doctor? What is it?" Her grip on him tightened with concern.

"This door. It's unusually large for a room this size, don't you think?"

"Maybe they're just really tall people?" She couldn't help the smile that formed.

Frowning at her humour, he placed his ear to the wood and listened for any sounds. Glancing back at her, he opened the door. The light from the other side brightly filled in the space all around them. In the next room they could see hundreds of well dressed __normal__ sized people standing together, chatting and mingling amongst each other while oblivious to their entrance. Shutting the door behind them, he led her into the crowd to blend in as if they had been there all along. "Now remember," he warned, continuing to lead her through the mixed mass of human and alien beings, "we are here to find out what happened to us, not to dilly-dally. No distractions. Look for anything you might remember."

Clara frowned. All these people enjoying themselves and she was stuck with the Time Lord, Slayer of Fun. Doing as he asked, her eyes scanned the room for anything that would bring her memory back. She didn't recognize any of the other guests nor the room they were in. Nothing out of the ordinary, besides being surrounded by aliens of course. However, she supposed that to them it was __she__ who was the alien. She noticed a strange object hanging from the ceiling high above the guest's heads. An orb-like structure encased in shaded glass. "What's that?" she asked, pointing upwards.

"Brain scanner," he responded, having already noticed it the second they entered the lobby, "it detects ill-intent."

"What would they need a brain scanner for at a party?"

"I'm not sure yet."

She could feel him pulling her towards the next room where they were greeted by a well-dressed man of a species Clara was not familiar with. He stood eagerly behind a host's station. A badge clung just below his lapel inscribed with the words, " _Xarbanka, Maître D'._ "

"Ah! Mr and Mrs Smith!" he addressed them, extending a scaled hand towards the Doctor. "So good to see you again! Mrs Smith, you look absolutely stunning this evening!" He returned his attention to the Doctor. "Better keep a good eye on her tonight, sir!" he boasted with a friendly smile.

"Will do," he replied, trying to keep the thought of having no memory of this man at rest.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" the man added, pulling out a lightweight box from inside the station. "This arrived earlier today with strict instructions to deliver to you personally upon your arrival."

"For me?" The Doctor raised a questioning brow, "Who sent it?"

"It didn't say, it was accompanied by this." The man pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to him.

Taking the note, he opened it to observe its message: _"For Mr Smith, from a friend."_ Glancing back towards the Maître D', he placed the note inside his pocket and released the clip holding the small box shut before hesitantly opening the lid. Inside were two identical pairs of what appeared to be ordinary reading glasses. Upon examination, he found nothing peculiar about them. Removing them from their case, he promptly placed them into his jacket pocket then nodded his gratitude towards the man. Turning to Clara, he noticed she had been experiencing the same confusion as he. "Well, shall we head for the refreshments, __dear__?" A smile formed on his face as he played along with his new role. They parted ways with the man and headed towards the entrance of the next room where the sound of live music was heard playing.

"That was a bit strange," she whispered. "Were you expecting a package here?"

"No, which means whoever sent it must have known we were going to be here at this exact moment."

"So, Mr Smith, eh?" She tried to hold back her laughter. "They get a lot of caretakers to come to these things, do they?"

"And, apparently, their __wives,__ " he teased.

"Hmm, Mrs Smith. Doesn't sound all __that__ bad. Better than Mrs The Doctor, doesn't quite have the same ring to it." She let out a small laugh.

"My, aren't we chipper this evening," he noted, addressing her sudden adjustment in mood from earlier. The more they immersed themselves into their surroundings the brighter she had become. He could feel the happiness resounding inside of her now seeping into him. "To what do I owe this new change? Surely you haven't forgiven me for everything already," he prodded, yet remained hopeful the answer would be, "Yes."

"I dunno." Clara thought about it. It was almost as if she hadn't even remembered being so cross with him. As if it had happened ages ago. Whatever feelings she had before had been replaced by something else, something warmer. Something she wasn't so sure she had control of. Whatever it was, she liked it. She liked the way she felt around him now more than ever. The thoughts and feelings she still clung to of his last form were slowly being replaced by his new one. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, you're here now," she added. As they entered the next room, he could feel her grip on him tighten. "Doctor!" she nearly gasped his name. "I've been here before. I remember this room from my dream." She looked around the structure to observe the walls and flooring. It was the same as the nightmare she had experienced right before the spectre attacked her. It sent shivers down her spine seeing this place again. Her eyes searched the room for the ghosts she had seen before only to find it was vacant of them. Even the people were different from those in her vision.

"Do you recognize anyone?" he asked, taking in all the details they may be missing.

"No, you?"

"Nothing." He strained to discover a clue, anything that might jog his memory of having been there before. He noticed a second scanner atop the ceiling over the guests and assumed there was one in each room.

As she examined the unfamiliar faces, she couldn't help but wonder it if was possible they had been wrong. That there wasn't anything there to find. Had they come all this way for nothing? She continued to observe the guests paired with their partners and dancing to the rhythm of the music. So carefree, so unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Just simply dancing and enjoying the company of one another. Feeling safer, for the moment, she turned to him. "Would you care to dance?"

"Good thinking! Blend in, gather details. Surely one of these people holds the key to our memory!"

Shaking her head, she smiled up at him and determined he would always remain the same old Doctor to her no matter how hard she tried to tame him. A part of her loved that about him and wouldn't change it for anything.

He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Facing her, he realized how long it had been since he had done this even if it were simply to gather data. Trying to recall exactly where he was supposed to put his hands and who was supposed to lead, he decided to go with his instincts instead. Under any other circumstances, he would have felt the flutter of his hearts beating. But this time, something about her was different. She placed the small fragile palm of her hand in his, the other wrapped around his back to which he mirrored. As he held her hand, he felt an overwhelming sense of emotion as he detected the vast amount of electricity emanating from her soft delicate fingers entwined in his own. He tried to hide his concern and concentrate on his objective, finding those responsible for all of this. Yet he couldn't keep his mind focused on anything else. What was different about her? What was he missing? __Stay focused, Doctor. Don't lose yourself in her eyes. You are here for a reason.__ His mind teetered between studying the room and her gaze. He could feel her pulse in the palm of his hand, though it was strangely foreign. Far too fast to be her own. __It's nothing, she's just excited. You mustn't get distracted.__

He could feel his muscles tense as her body drew close to his. Her head rested on his shoulder. The hand he claimed on her back had found itself around the small of her waist while the other held onto hers firmly. The same warmth he felt before in the TARDIS began to rise up in his body. The electricity felt from her hand deepened as if it were connecting to every fibre in his body. __What is she doing to me__ , he wondered? Trying his hardest to stay on task, he began to distract his senses with observation. He counted the tiles on the floor, the number of beverages being passed around, anything even remotely relevant to their reason for being there. He noticed a few of the guests had their attention turned towards them. Did he know them? Did they know him? Could they be involved or was he just feeling paranoid? Before he lost himself in her arms, he attempted to de-escalate the intensity of their embrace. "I feel we are being watched," he finally spoke, breaking the silence of the moment.

"By who?" she asked, slowly lifting her head off his shoulder.

"Usurians, behind you."

"What's a Usurian?" She started to look in their direction.

"Don't turn around!" he ordered, closely monitoring the other guests as he waited for just the right moment. Seizing the opportunity, he spun her around to the rhythm of the music. His dominant hand retained its grasp on hers as her back became flushed up against him. His other hand wrapped around her front to hold her midsection firmly, pulling her even closer to him. He ignored the small gasp that escaped her lips. "There, just in front of you," he whispered into her ear, "do you recognize them?"

Clara, trying to swallow the surprise that overtook her from his sudden intimacy, glanced in the direction of which he was speaking. "No, I don't think so." She hardly even looked at the suspected guests, being too distracted by his closeness. Her free hand found its way to his and placed it gently atop his own. She could feel herself breathing more heavily as he applied a light pressure to her abdomen.

The Doctor, not ready to eliminate the Usurians as possible suspects, began to scan the room again looking for more clues. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, a powerful surge swept through his body originating from the hand resting securely upon Clara's body. A telepathic connection he hadn't felt in a very long time. It was so unbelievably strong it pulled him entirely out of his reality.

He opened his eyes and found himself in a sort of undetermined space, relocated from where he last stood as if he had been teleported. Darkness had formed all around him. __Am I dreaming?__ Far off in the distance he saw a small light. Approaching slowly, he shielded his eyes from the intense glow emanating from it. As he drew closer, more finite details of its existence began to form all around him. Light particles circulated from its main source. The closer he stepped the more he could hear it trying to speak to him. He could hear the sound of its heart beating faintly, then louder until it beat like a drum deep into his soul. Yet there was something different about it, something only he would be able to feel. There were two. Two distinct heartbeats originating from the same source. __No, it can't be! How is this even possible?!__ He found himself being drawn to its life force, unable to stop himself from stepping closer towards it until he could nearly reach it. The light burned into his eyes yet he could not look away. His hand reached out, ready to succumb to its will, until his fingers made their first contact with it. Then there was a flash of light.

The Doctor opened his eyes once again, gasping and breathing heavily. He searched his surroundings thoroughly. He was back in the ballroom. His hand was still clenched around Clara's as the other pressed her tightly against him from behind. Panic came over him. He released himself from her and stepped away as the music came to an end. He saw her turn to face him, her eyes conveyed worry and concern for her friend. He couldn't shake the vision in his head of what he saw, for what he feared was happening inside of her. He tried to even conceive of the possibility. His mind raced, his hearts beat rapidly in his chest. __No, this isn't possible!__ Yet everything he knew and felt was pointing to only one answer, that his Clara was with child.

"Doctor?" She stepped closer to him only to watch him step even farther away. His eyes were wide with fright. "Doctor, what is it? What's wrong?"

His mind burst and flooded with a thousand thoughts as if it were a shattering dam. So many questions, so little answers. It all started to make sense and didn't at the same time. The electricity and warmth he felt just being around her, a warmth he thought to be the deep feelings he carried for her, was, in reality, the tangible emotions of the life form growing inside of her. Emotions they now shared. If Clara was upset the child would imitate her distress. When she became elated so would the child. And if she were to experience pain or suffering...

"I-I'm not sure." He kept his distance. The words he wanted to say were lost under miles of thought. She came closer to him, the look of fear on her face as she did when they were in real danger. He couldn't move, not because of the couples dancing all around him trapping him where he was, but because his legs would not allow him to. As she stood in front of him, her hand reached for his. "Don't," he stopped her firmly. He couldn't bear their touch again, not now, not when his mind needed to repair itself of its malfunction. They stood in unbearable silence, the music having long since ended as the musicians adjusted their pages for the next set. "I think I've had quite enough dancing for one evening," he told her, trying to keep the worry off of his face.

Clara was confused and mildly hurt. Had she done something wrong? _W_ _ _hy__ _ _was he so flustered__ , she wondered? The music started to sound again yet neither one of them yielded their positions on the floor. She hardly even noticed the young man approaching her side.

"Excuse me, Miss?" the man addressed her.

She turned to him, nearly forgetting the Doctor's strange behaviour. She was taken aback by his youthful features. Not young enough to be a boy but certainly not too __old__ either. He appeared human, but so did many others who either were or simply used a type of cloaking device to possibly hide their true race from potential enemies.

"I was just wondering," he continued shyly, "if you would do me the honour of sharing this dance with me. If it pleases you." He looked towards the Doctor, "Of course, that is if you do not mind, sir?"

"Well, actually," he started, trying not to show his infuriated demeanour over the sudden interruption between them, "we were just about to-"

"I'd love to." She took the arm of the young man.

"Clara, we really should be going," he insisted, attempting to lure her back to him.

"I'll only be a minute! I'm sure you can 'handle things in my stead,'" she replied, turning his own words around on him.

 _ _Impossible woman!__ The Doctor attempted to remain unaltered by her sudden unexpected leave of him. He removed himself from the crowd and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in disapproval as he watched them from a distance. He could see the young man take her into his arms and pull her close to his chest. She appeared to be somewhat taken with him, laughing and smiling in his direction. He could feel himself becoming jealous but tried to ignore it. __Of course she would feel an attraction, just look at him! He's everything I'm not; young and handsome. While compared to him, I'm nothing but a frustrated emotionless old man.__

He attempted to distract himself by continuing to observe the room around them. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe they were too late, or just maybe there was nothing there for them to find. But why the brain scanners? What could possibly be so crucial there to require them? And even more importantly, who had sent him the glasses? Who had known he was going to be there on this exact night? His eyes drew back to his companion. The young man's hand had found its way to her waist, her head rested just slight of his lapel. " _Will this song never end?!"_ he mumbled aloud to himself.

As he continued to watch them, he couldn't help but think of the child developing inside of her. Was she aware of its presence? Could she feel it inside of her or was it simply too early to detect? The dreaded thought of how it came to be was secondary to his greatest concern, that the child was of Gallifreyan decent. The list of possible fathers was too short to deny being responsible for any part of it. But how had this happened? __There must be some sort of explanation__ , he thought _ _.__ The song finally ended and the young pair made their way towards the refreshments.

"May I offer you something, some champagne perhaps?" asked the young man.

"That would be lovely, thank you." She watched him head towards the bar to attract the attention of the bartender.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she heard the voice of the Doctor say behind her. Rolling her eyes, she turned around to face him. "My my, what a lovely couple you two are!" he added.

"Doctor," she replied, now slightly annoyed with him.

"How old is he? Twelve? Thirteen? Ages, not my area."

Ignoring his jealous comments, she decided to change the subject, "Did you find out anything?"

"Oh, I thought we were here to dance and party!" Behind her, he saw the young man returning with two filled glasses in his hands, "And drink!"

"Champagne, for the lady," the young man offered, handing her a glass.

"Thank you." Accepting the glass from him, she raised it to toast the gentlemen.

"That other one must be for me then?" the Doctor asked the boy, his temper getting the better of him.

"Doctor!" she hushed him, lightly smacking his chest. "Behave."

He watched her bring the glass to her lips. A sudden protective feeling came over him as he removed the drink from her hand before she could take a sip. "No, I don't think so. We wouldn't want you to get all sloshy." He handed the drink back to the young man. "Don't let her appearance fool you. She's a terrible drunk, absolutely the worst! Now if you'll excuse us." He grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the confused man.

"That was incredibly rude," she scolded.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll forget all about you. Plenty of other sultry girls here to choose from." He felt her rip her arm away from his grasp. Surprised, he turned around to see her face. He could only describe the look of shock and hurt in her eyes.

"Is that what you think of me then?" Tears started to form at the brim of her eyes.

"No, of course not." He realized he had let his jealousy take control of him. "Clara, I need to speak with you," he implored, extending a hand towards her apologetically. After a moment, she wiped the tears from her eyes and took his hand. He took her to a less crowded area of the room and made sure there was no one listening in. He looked into her eyes, still damp from tears. He didn't even know what to say or how to begin. He brushed the loosened hairs from her face and wiped the remaining tear still clinging to her cheek. "Clara, I-" he stopped himself and ran his fingers through his hair. __Why is this so difficult,__ he asked himself. __Just tell her!__ He sighed heavily and regained his thoughts, "Clara, I need to tell you something." She did not reply, only gazed into his eyes awaiting his next words which only made it harder for him to speak. At last he found the courage to tell her the truth, "This may be difficult for you to understand right now, but you… you're..."

"Welcome guests to the Prima Nova Biannual Charity Auction Ball!" a woman suddenly shouted from the top of the stairs. The guests cheered and clapped at her entrance.

The Doctor was frozen in thought by the interruption. He knew that voice. It sent a cold chill of unavoidable fear down his spine. There was only one person he knew of who had power over him such as that. He glanced up towards the sound of her voice hoping he was very wrong about the thoughts now invading his mind.

"I'll be your host this evening," she continued, descending down the stairs, "but you may call me... the Mistress."

* * *

Works Cited

 _Laundro-Room of Doom_. By Nick Abadzis, illustrated by Eleonora Carlini, _The Fountains of Forever_ , Titan Comics, 2 May 2015.

"The Snowmen." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Saul Metzstein, season 7, special 11, BBC One, 25 December 2012.

"The Sun Makers." _Doctor Who_ , written by Robert Holmes, directed by Pennant Roberts, season 15, serial 4, BBC1, 26 November-17 December 1977.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Missy," the Doctor whispered through gritted teeth. He could feel the anger building inside of him. He should have been able to sense her presence before yet was too preoccupied with his companion's unknowingly dark secret to detect her. The last time he had seen her was back on Skaro in the midst of a civil war raging between the living and the dead Daleks. She had locked Clara away in the armour of a deceased Dalek and tried to convince him to destroy her. If it weren't for his intuitiveness of the inner workings of their species and knowing a Dalek would never utter the word "mercy", Clara would be dead. He had no knowledge of what became of her after he and Clara escaped. He left her behind to fend for herself during the chaos. Knowing her, she probably found some clever way off the planet. All he did know was that he told her to run and run she had. Even now, as she stood high above him, all the risks he had taken in the past to save her life came rushing back into his mind. He realized how stupid he was for falling right into her trap yet again.

"I don't believe it," Clara admitted in shock. She would never be able to understand why he let her escape that day. He and the Master's history went so deep in time it would take an eternity to grasp what they were to each other. Friends? Foes? As much as she tried to be understanding, his weakness was the hope that one day she would change her ways and be the friends they once were so many years ago. Back when they were just children.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to my little soirée," Missy continued, wielding her signature sonic-parasol beside her. "The auction will begin shortly. So until then, keep your panties on. Or don't! Either way, we're going to have a bit of fun now, aren't we?" The crowd shouted their cheers to her as she stood above them like a Goddess, all except for two. Missy's head turned towards the cheerless guests sulking down below her, her eyes connecting with her old friend. A smile peeled over her lips as she descended the stairs towards them, greeting her followers in the crowd with her devious flirtatious behaviour. Approaching the Doctor, her smile widened. "My my my, I knew you could never stay away for very long," she gloated as his eyes burned with anger. "I do have to say, this obsessive infatuation you have with me is rather __sexy__."

"I should have known it was you behind all this. What are you playing at this time, Missy? Are you planning to turn all these people into more Cybermen? Or perhaps you're in league with the Zygons now. I can never seem to keep up to speed with all of your charming charades." He held on to his temper as best he could.

"Oh, Doctor," she pouted her lips, "you are so predictable when you're wearing your cross-pants." She noticed Clara standing next to him, "And Clara, so good to see you again! How's my girl? Have you been treating my boyfriend well?"

"I'm not your __girl__ , or have you forgotten that little bit about how you tried to have me killed?" she fumed, resisting the urge to hit her in her evil face.

"Let's just consider that my little way of flirting, dear." She watched as Clara turned red with hatred. "Whew! It must be absolutely boiling in here with all these sweaty bodies about, you look a bit flushed. By the way, how are you feeling these days?" she provoked her, looking her up and down.

"Stop playing games," he interjected. "What is this auction really all about?"

"Charity, darling," she teased.

"Charity for whom?"

"Why, for me of course!"

"And what could you possibly need all that money for? Planning a holiday somewhere? Off to some hot spot all the kids are talking about these days?"

Missy laughed at the old man which only made him more furious. "Oh, you silly little man. There's more to life than just money. Here we are a trade-way where just about anything can be considered payment." She glanced at Clara, "Including pets." She watched Clara's heated reaction, grinning to herself. "Listen, just between us girls, with a dress like that you don't have to stick around this grumpy old face. There are plenty of younger men in this room willing to sweep you off your feet faster than you can drop your knickers!"

"What's with the brain scanners," he interrupted them before Clara could say anything, "or did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Can't be too trusting these days." She reached up to straighten his jacket. He grabbed her wrists harshly to stop her. "Oh, I didn't realize you liked it __rough,__ " she insinuated, provocatively snapping her teeth together.

"Why did you bring us here before? Why the invitation?" He squeezed her wrists tighter.

"Well now, that's my little secret. You wouldn't want to spoil the surprise! Besides, I know you better than anyone. I knew you could never resist an open invitation." Before the Doctor could say anything more, the sound of bells chimed overhead. The guests sat down their beverages and began to gather like a herd of cattle towards the open doors on the other side of the room. Missy pulled herself from his grasp and joined the others before turning around to look back at them. "Coming? You wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun now, would you?"

The Doctor and Clara reluctantly followed the crowd hand in hand. He had a horrible feeling coursing through him, but he couldn't turn back now. Not when they were so close to finding out the truth of why they were there. As they walked through the threshold, their grip on each other's hands tightened in anticipation of what was to come. They all entered like a great flood sweeping over every inch of the room. Whatever this was seemed to be incredibly popular among the several species they could see. The room was certainly large enough to house all of the people in attendance. A massive stage stood in front of a double hanging grand curtain as if they were about to watch a play. In the middle of the stage sat a sort of short pillar on display. On one side of the stage was a podium. The seats were arranged in rows with no particular order or reservation. Staying mostly behind, they chose two seats in the back for better observation. He took the opportunity to look around the room for anything out of place while the guests were filling in the seats. Emergency exits on the sides, unmanned and unlocked. Another brain scanner on the ceiling. Nothing that would seem to suggest a trap, __yet__.

"I don't get it," Clara started, breaking the silence between them, "with all these different species here from all over the universe, why have we never heard of this auction going on before? If it were this popular you would think someone would have mentioned it by now."

"Yes, it would appear this is the best kept secret in all the universe," he agreed. He had been thinking the same thing from the moment they arrived. He watched as Missy made her way to the stage.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, lads and lasses, lords and __mistresses__!" she began, fluffing her hair at her own recognition. "If you will all be kind enough to take your seats we can get started." She waited a moment for the guests to settle quietly then reached into her pocket. The Doctor watched closely as she pulled out a pair of reading glasses matching the ones he had been given earlier and placed them on her face. "There now, that's better! I'd like to begin with our very first item this evening. I believe you will find no other in the universe quite like it."

From behind the curtain appeared a beautiful young woman of no more than twenty, bearing long auburn hair and sparkling brown eyes who seemed familiar to the Doctor yet he could not recall having ever seen her before. She was dressed in a long-sleeved gown and wearing an identical pair of glasses. She held a brilliantly decorated layered necklace fastened to a blue velvet display in which she placed upon the pillar. The chain was made from a mix of different types of gold. The gems themselves were mostly diamonds ranging in various sizes. The lights reflecting off the surface of the gemstones embedded into its metallic fixings sparkled in a million different places. Truly an unmistakable work of art.

"Nicknamed 'The Eyes of the Galaxy,'" she continued, "this piece is among the rarest in the universe and was one of two precious items to have been smuggled out of the Halassi vaults during the great raid. The chain itself is composed of blue and yellow gold mined from the Flidor moon and Jupiter's orbiting asteroid Voga. The diamonds were mined from several different planets including Arcadia and the reefs of Kataa Flo Ko. Each link was hand dipped in the golden whirlpools of Catrigan Nova, my personal favourite..."

"Is she serious?" Clara finally spoke, trying to keep the agitation in her voice to a minimum. "Did we really come all this way for a bit of jewellery?"

The Doctor remained silent. He too was in disbelief that nothing had blown up yet, setting the walls ablaze and trapping everyone in the room. None of the guests were being captured or forced into some kind of slavery which would have been so fitting for someone like Missy, at least the Missy __he__ knew. His mind was in conflict over knowing what she was capable of yet saw no one in distress. No world he had to save from her evil plans. He'd be a fool to believe she wasn't up to anything, so what was he missing? What should he be looking for that no one else could see?

His eyes searched the room for anything representing danger, and then he noticed something rather odd. The guests had been too busy with chatter to notice the young woman who had presented the necklace was pulling an object from one of her sleeves to hold out in front of her. Perfectly sphere-like in shape, it was hardly larger than her own hand. But the Doctor recognized it almost immediately, suddenly realizing why he had been sent the mysterious gift. Great fear passed through him. No time to save anyone else, only enough to save her. "Clara!" he called, scrambling to get the pairs of glasses out of his pocket. "Quickly, put these on!"

"What? Why?" she asked, cautiously taking a pair from his hand.

"No questions, just do it! Do as you're told!" he ordered her.

She hastily did as he asked as he did the same. Before she could inquire any further into what they were for, a sudden flash of blinding white light engulfed the entire room followed by a deafening silence. They felt themselves shielding their eyes from its intense glow. After a moment, the light simply faded away. When he felt it was safe, he returned his attention towards the front of the room. It was completely quiet, not a sound to be heard. No shifting of the seats, no speaking, no one was moving in any way at all. The entire auditorium was under some sort of trance-like state, all pairs of eyes were fixed towards the orb.

Clara uncovered her face as the Doctor had and observed the guests in their stillness. "The people," she noted, feeling the fear rising inside of her, "they're all frozen! What happened to them?"

"They aren't frozen. They've been put into a comatose state. By __that,__ " he gestured towards the sphere.

"What is it?"

"It's a Comasphere, nearly impossible to come by. It puts whoever looks into it in a trace. They have no idea anything has happened to them. No knowledge of time passing."

Before Clara could say anything more, they heard the shrieking cries of something approaching them as if it were moaning in pain. Terrified, she took the Doctor's hand. Suddenly from all around them appeared the ghost-like creatures from her dream. They passed through the walls and floors from every direction. "Doctor!" she nearly screamed in terror.

"I know, I see them too." He tried to count exactly how many there were. Dozens at least.

"I saw one in my dream right before you woke me." They watched the spectres quickly making their way over the crowd of comatose people. Each of them appeared to be searching for something as they began to scan the guests one by one. After only a moment, one became fixed on a man in the audience. It lowered itself upon him and placed its ashy fingers on his temples. The Doctor and Clara observed as the creature let out a horrible shrieking sound, then entered the body of the man and disappeared inside of him. "What just happened? Where did it go? What __are__ those things?!"

"They're called Persuaders. Highly telepathic creatures. They can convince you to do whatever they want you to, but they can only enter someone's body if that person's mind is completely open. Which is exactly what the Comasphere does, it opens your mind so you don't even know what is happening. The guests can't see the creatures or even know they are there. But we can."

"Why weren't we affected?"

"The glasses, they must shield the effects of the sphere."

Before they could determine anything else, the Comasphere began to chime. All the Persuaders in the room screamed then disappeared back behind the walls and floors from whence they came. On the last chime, all the guests began to regain consciousness, talking amongst themselves as if nothing had happened. The Doctor and Clara stared in disbelief of what they had just witnessed.

"Congratulations to you on your winnings, Baron von Kinloss of Hedron," Missy applauded, addressing the man in which the Persuader had entered. "We give our thanks for your generous donation to our cause." The room filled with the sound of cheers and applause for the gentleman as he nodded in appreciation. "Do be sure to collect your winnings afterwards."

"What? I didn't hear him bid anything, did you?" Clara asked.

"No, but whatever he offered was done telepathically by the Persuaders. Missy must share a link with them."

"What are you saying? That the Persuaders are convincing people to make _bets_ for them?"

"Not for them, for __her__." He glared at Missy, the gears in his head turning. __What is she after? Do these people have any idea what they are promising her?__

"Doctor, we should go," Clara advised, placing her hand on his. Something didn't feel right to her, she just couldn't place it. "Let's just forget about this memory hunt and get out while we still can. I don't know what Missy is up to but I don't want to stick around any longer to find out."

He looked into her eyes. At any other time he would have scoffed at her ridiculous human emotions while embracing whatever challenge may have found its way to him. But she was right, he couldn't risk putting her and the child in danger any longer. He needed to protect them. This was something he'd have to do on his own. "Okay, we'll go," he agreed, taking her hand in his.

"And now we come to the next exciting item this evening," Missy shouted over the chatter. Two large men entered from the sides of the stage and removed the pillar from the centre. "Get your credits ready for this one, ladies and gents. I hope you will find it to be quite the addition to your private collection!"

The Doctor couldn't help but remain seated as if frozen with curiosity. The large curtains hiding the remaining stage behind it slowly began to slide open. He found himself unable to move. The anticipation awaiting the reveal of what was to come consumed him. The curtains soon parted from each other, fully exposing its wonders concealed behind it. As he and Clara realized what they were looking at, their jaws dropped in utter shock.

It was the TARDIS.

* * *

Works Cited

"The Witch's Familiar." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Hettie MacDonald, season 9, episode 2, BBC One, 26 September 2015.

"Dark Water." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 11, BBC One, 1 November 2014.

"The Husbands of River Song." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 9, special 17, BBC One, 25 December 2015.

 _The Dalek Book_. By David Whitaker and Terry Nation, Souvenir Press, BBC tv, 30 June 1964.

"Revenge of the Cyberman." _Doctor Who_ , written by Gerry Davis, directed by Michael Briant, season 12, serial 5, BBC1, 19 April-10 May 1975.

 _Deceit_. By Peter Darvill-Evans, cover by Luis Rey, Virgin Books, book 13, 15 April 1993.

"The Sontaran Stratagem." _Doctor Who_ , written by Helen Raynor, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 4, episode 4, BBC One, 26 April 2008.

"Last of the Time Lords." _Doctor Who_ , written by Russell T Davies, directed by Colin Teague and Graeme Harper, season 3, episode 13, BBC One, 30 June 2007.

 _Time Bomb_. By Jamie Delano, illustrated by John Ridgway, Marvel Comics, _Doctor Who Magazine_ , issue 114-116, 12 June-14 August 1986.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

They stared in disbelief as their way out was sitting in plain view for all to see. The chatter in the room grew by the second as the guests began to question exactly what they were looking at.

"Doctor!" Clara gasped, remaining stunned by the events unfolding.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why didn't I see it before?!" He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "The doors!"

"Sorry?"

"I told you there was something off about that room, the one we arrived in! The doors weren't installed to let very large people in, it was to take very large objects __out__! Missy must have known we would be coming. She planned this from the start. This whole thing was designed to trap us here!"

"I don't understand. Even if someone made a bid for it, they can't get inside. It can't leave this planet. It's basically a giant useless box without the key," she assured him, attempting to keep them both calm.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Missy continued to address the audience, "what you are looking at is a one-of-its-kind Time Lord time machine from the legendary planet of Gallifrey and is known to be able to take you anywhere you want to go both in time __and__ space." The Doctor scoffed at her words. "The outside may look like an ordinary twentieth-century police box from Earth, but I assure you, the inside is much __much__ larger." Her eyes connected to his as a maniacal smile formed over her teeth. "All you need is... the key," she declared, raising the ship's signature Yale lock in front of her for all to see.

"How in the hell did she get her hands on a TARDIS key?!" Clara demanded. The Doctor was in shock, his eyes wide with fear. "Doctor!" she shouted, trying to get through to him.

"I don't know, Clara!" he snapped. He hated not knowing. He started to panic. How was it even possible? He frantically checked his pockets and pulled out his own copy of the key. Clara checked her necklace, she too had her key eliminating the possibility of Missy having lifted it from them during their close encounter with her in the ballroom. Missy approached the ship and inserted the key into the lock. Turning her head around to see the faces of the Doctor and his companion, she turned the key. The door opened.

"Doctor! Do something!" Clara cried out.

"I can't, she already has access. There's nothing I can do," he replied, sounding defeated.

A few moments later, he heard Missy call out from beyond the doors of the ship. "HELLO, Hello, hello!" she shouted from inside, mimicking an echo. After a few more moments, she poked her head back outside the door, "Shall we start the bidding then?" The room began to fill with excitement as talk of the time machine became the headline of their thoughts.

The Doctor noticed the woman from before starting to pull the Comasphere from her sleeve. Time was running out, if he didn't do something now they could be stranded on this planet forever. Without delay, he turned to his companion. "Clara, I need you to trust me," he implored, holding her cheek in the palm of his hand. With the other, he removed the glasses from his face and returned them to his pocket.

"What are you doing?!" She began to panic over whatever ridiculous plan could possibly be forming inside that brain of his.

"I'm going to endure the effects of the sphere. I need answers and I'm not going to get them by sitting here doing nothing."

"No! There has to be another way. There's __always__ another way!"

"Not this time." He glanced back at the woman who was now holding the sphere in front of her.

A tear ran down Clara's cheek as she shut and covered her eyes. The bright light engulfed the room once more. When it had dissipated, she raised her head. Silence had befallen the large room once again. She turned her attention towards the Doctor who was now in a comatose state. "Doctor!" She shook his shoulder. "Doctor! Wake up!" There was no response from him. She continued to try to break him of the trance. From the front of the room, she heard a burst of laughter resonating against the walls as Missy watched the frantic girl attempt to shake her friend awake.

"It's too late, Clara. They're coming for him, and there's nothing your pretty little face can do!" she cawed. The sound of shrieking filled the room once again. The Persuaders manifested themselves over the guests as before. Suddenly one came up through the floor directly in front Clara and the Doctor.

"No! Stay away!" Clara screamed. "Get away from him!" Ignoring her, the Persuader reached out and placed its talons on the Doctor's temples. "Stop it! Don't you __dare__ touch him!" It opened its mouth showing its glass-like teeth and let out a low bellowing moan, then entered the old man's body. "NO! Doctor!"

The Doctor opened his eyes. He found himself inside of another dimension; a void. The space around him was engulfed in never-ending darkness. In front of him was the Persuader that had entered his body, it was looking at him with its vacant lifeless eyes. "I suppose you're wondering why we're here," the Doctor speculated, attempting to communicate with the creature. "We're telepathically linked now, you and I. As long as we're connected we will remain here for eternity, neither one of us being able to return to our own worlds. An eternity of darkness, just the two of us." The creature bent its head as if trying to understand the strange being it was bound to. "Unless you have a deck of cards up your sleeve, you can bet things might get rather boring around here." The creature screamed with objection. "Ah, you sound upset. What if I told you there was a way out of here? All you have to do is one thing for me and I will break our link to each other." The Persuader stared at the unusual man, awaiting the terms. "My memories," he continued, "you have access to them and I want them back. Give them to me, and I will set us free. Easy as that." He patiently awaited the answer. After a moment of having considered the offer, the creature bowed his head in agreement. It approached him and slowly placed its talons on the old man's temples. The Doctor gasped, feeling a sudden rush of exhilaration as his mind absorbed the sporadic pieces of his lost memories. He watched them unfold for the first time as if he were merely a bystander in his own life.

 _ _Flashback to__ _ _Clara's__ _ _flat on the night of her big date and the moment everything first started. The sound of the TARDIS phone ringing could be heard in his head.__

 _ _"It's just a phone, Clara. Nothing happens when you answer the phone." He picked up the receiver.__ _  
_

 _ _"Doctor?" asked a woman whose voice he didn't recognize.__ _  
_

 _ _"Hello? Who is this? How did you get this number?"__ _  
_

 _ _"That doesn't matter, what does matter is I need your help. There will be an auction. An item of absolute power able to control the minds of the most powerful people in the universe will be used to bring utter destruction to my world and many others like it. I need you to steal it."__

 _ _Flashback to several moments later. He replaced the receiver and took Cl__ _ _ara's__ _ _arm, dragging her towards the doors of the TARDIS.__

 _ _"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed,__ _ _trying to resist him.__

 _ _"It's a little detour. It's a... it's a job. I've go__ _ _t to do it for someone. Come on!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and lightly pushed her against her will into the ship.__

 _ _Flashback to the TARDIS control room. The Doctor and Clara are seated at a table on the ship, his hands are interlocked in front of him. Clara sat across as if she were being interviewed.__

 _ _"We need to rob an auction," he tells her.__ _  
_

 _ _"What?" she asked, more confused than worried.__ _  
_

 _ _"Clara, I need worms."__

 _ _Flashback to much later in the TARDIS. The Doctor saw himself sitting at the console wearing a tuxedo and using the view-screen to type in a location. An opened tab revealed he had been researching brain scanners and ways to get passed them. Another opened tab on the screen showed pictures and descriptions of the memory worms he had used not so very long ago in a different life. Clara approached him from behind wearing the knee-length golden dress from their first visit to Prima Nova over the pair of black heeled shoes she planned to wear on her date.__

 _ _"Thanks for the shopping trip, I had absolutely nothing to wear for__ __this thing," she mentioned, adjusting the dress he had taken her to get.__ _  
_

 _ _"I still don't understand why you couldn't have just picked something from the wardrobe."__ _  
_

 _ _"Tell that to the TARDIS, she's the one who keeps moving it! Leave it to her to move everything around when we're in a rush." She peered over his shoulder at the screen.__

 _ _"What's that?" She pointed to the opened tab, unable to realize that by the time they would arrive at their destination all memories of this discussion would have been erased.__ _  
_

 _ _"Brain scanners, they detect ill-intent. We will have to delete our memories else we'll never get passed them," he informed her. A knock was then heard on the TARDIS door. They looked at each other, confused by the sound. He headed for the door and opened it. The ship had been parked in an alley outside of the shop in which Clara had purchased her dress from. Lying on the ground was an envelope, on the front the words "The Doctor" had been written. He looked around for signs of anyone who may have dropped it off there but there was no one. He brought it back inside and opened it in front of his companion. It was the invitation. Having read it, he tucked it into the breast pocket of his tuxedo then reached down and picked up the black zippered bag housing the two memory worms.__ _  
_

 _ _"Are you ready?" he grinned.__ _  
_

 _ _"Do I really have to touch that worm thing?"__ _  
_

 _ _"Yes, you do. And change your shoes, we're on a mission!"__

 _ _Flashback to six weeks ago, their first visit to Prima Nova. The Doctor saw his past self and Clara in the ballroom the night their memories were erased. They were speaking with Missy for the first time after discovering her involvement in bringing them there. He overheard the past "thems" in conversation.__

 _"_ _ _I should have known it was you behind all this. What are you playing at this time, Missy?" he heard himself accuse her. The conversation continued almost exactly as it had the second time. "Why did you bring us here? Why the invitation?" It was now apparent why Missy had considered him "predictable."__

 _ _Flashback to later in the auction room. The Doctor witnessed his past self and Clara sitting beside each other in the auditorium. He watched as the same woman who appeared from behind the curtain was holding the Comasphere out in front of her. He saw himself and Clara, powerless to stop it, succumb to the effects of the sphere. As the bright light filled the room, both his past self and Clara were hit and brought into a trance. He saw the Persuaders enter through the walls and sift out the guests for what they had to offer. Two of them reached himself and Clara then entered their bodies.__

 _ _Flashback to moments later, a private corridor leading to a secret room behind the walls of the stage. The Doctor watched as his past self and Clara, being controlled by the Persuaders inside of them, were slowly making their way hand in hand down a narrow path towards the room in front of them. This memory became more clear to him. It was more intact than the others, possibly due to the fact that he was receiving the lost memories from the minds of two Persuaders involved instead of one. It was almost as if he were actually there following alongside a copy of himself and Clara while accompanying them down the path, yet they were unaware of his presence.__

 _ _Following them into the unknown room, he could see their past selves enter and head towards what was in the centre; a large bed. The entire chamber had been furnished as if someone slept there often enough to have devoted the room to themselves. Expecting to witness some sort of monstrous life form appearing from somewhere to attack them, yet nothing had, the Doctor was confused as to why they were originally brought to this place. He continued to watch the memories of what happened in the room through the actions of their past selves. Though the Persuaders maintained control over their__ _ _host's__ _ _bodies, for a moment it almost appeared as if a part of them were somehow aware of each other's presence.__

 _ _Turning towards each other, the Doctor watched as his past self lifted his hand and placed it gently to her cheek, caressing her soft skin within his palm. He could hear the faint sounds between the two Persuaders, a sort of high-frequency humming, emanating from inside their bodies as they communicated with each other. And then, to the Doc__ _ _tor's__ _ _surprise, the events unfolding in front of him shocked him beyond his imagination.__

 _ _His past self, his hand still on her face, suddenly leaned in and passionately pressed his lips to hers as if they had done it so many times before. She embraced his romantic gesture without the slightest bit of hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed each other. He firmly gripped her sides before finding himself exploring down to her waist. He began to kiss her cheek, then her neck. His wandering hands made their way around to her back and reached towards the top of her dress, taking hold of its zipper and pulling it down the length of her. His delicate fingers slipped underneath the newly parted fabric to experience her bare skin against his. Gazing up towards him, she carefully removed the straps from her shoulders and allowed the dress to fall to the floor.__

 _ _The Doctor stood paralysed at the sight of his compa__ _ _nion's__ _ _nude form. He tried to force himself to look away, but there was nowhere he could shield his eyes of her as he was__ _ _n't__ _ _actually standing there. The image of her was already in his consciousness. The memories once lost had been embedded into his mind, and now that he had seen them he would never be able to unsee them.__

 _ _Yet his other self looked upon her exposed form with desirable admiration. His fingers grazed over the surface of every perfection in her curves with his tender touch. Her hands found their way to his tuxedo jacket and began to free himself of it, allowing it to fall to the ground behind him. He watched her every move with genuine infatuation as she continued to undress him. Her lips placed gentle kisses down his chest while her fingers worked to unfasten the buttons holding his shirt together. Once parted, she granted herself full access to his body underneath. He felt himself shudder with arousal as she trailed her soft hands from his bare chest down to his stomach.  
__

 _ _Something inside of him suddenly snapped as their heated passion caused the untamed animalistic side of him to lose all control. Unable to stop himself, he aggressively took hold of her hips and forced her back towards the edge of the bed. She fell back onto the mattress and watched with great intimidation as he removed his shirt and tossed it aside, then began to remove his belt parting ways from the rest of his clothing. He climbed up on the bed, his body pressed against hers as he kissed her again. His lips made their way down her neck and then to her chest as she breathed heavily. His hand slid towards the curve of her hip. He continued his gentle kisses down her belly and then lower to just above her young fertile womb, his ultimate paternally-driven goal set upon him by the Persuader. The strong uncontrollable desire to impregnate her came over him, sensing she was in heat. The endorphins rising inside of her flourished as if begging him to transform her body into a carrier of life. Her scent was like an aphrodisiac to him. The Persua__ _ _der's__ _ _forceful thoughts were so convincing he could think of nothing else but his primal instinct to breed her, to fill her with his seed and protect it as it grew, to make a mother of her. The more he thought about her heavy with his child the more he wanted her. His fingers lightly trailed from her hip to her soft belly and stopped just below her navel. He gently pressed his hand upon her warm skin as if preparing her body for the life he was about to put inside of it. He could feel her muscles contracting underneath his palm, her breathing became more rapid as she readied herself to receive him. His body stiffened as he tried to savour every moment of her vulnerable form. As he hovered above her, he could feel the warmth rising up from between her legs. She was ready. He felt intoxicated by lust, no longer able to resist the urge inside of him to give her exactly what her body wanted. Before he could think about it any longer, he allowed himself to enter her as she gasped beneath him.__

"Stop!" the Doctor cried aloud, knowing he was still linked with the creature. He stood horrified as the images and feelings came rushing back to him. It was far too powerful to even fathom. "Please, no more." A sudden flash of light blinded him. His eyes adjusted to his new surroundings. He was back in the auditorium, yet there were no guests. The seats were entirely vacant leaving him alone in the room. There was no sign of his past self nor Clara. And yet, he could still feel the telepathic link to the Persuader.

"Hello, lover," interjected a voice echoing from all directions. He spun around trying to find the source when he saw a figure appear on the stage. As the figure approached, he realized it was Missy and she was speaking directly to him.

"Missy?" he asked, now questioning everything.

"The one and only," she curtsied.

"But how? What is this place?"

"We are in your mind. The Persuaders and I are all linked to each other. You linked yourself to them and therefore I am linked to you. Think of this place as a kind of... limbo."

"I don't understand. Why have you brought me here? What is it you want from me?!" He felt even more violated than before.

"What makes you think I want anything from __you?__ " she retorted, then disappeared in the time it took him to blink. From behind him, he heard her heavy sigh and quickly spun around towards the sound. She had re-appeared, this time seated in the audience. Next to her sat Clara, the Clara from his present time, whose likeness had been brought into their shared link to be used like a stage prop. He saw a smile form on Clara's face as if inviting him to join them. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew she wasn't real, that none of it was real. It was all just a fabrication of his mind controlled by Missy in order to deceive him into thinking it was really her. "You know, Doctor," she placed her arm around Clara, "I've always envied you and your companions. Blindly following you throughout time without even a second thought all because a strange man in a blue box showed up on their doorstep and asked them to."

"Maybe you'd still have one if you hadn't killed them all." His fury began to elevate as he watched her hold Clara close to her. Even though he knew she wasn't real, just the thought of Missy's grasp on his friend enraged him. He quickly pushed his emotions away, he knew Missy was baiting him and he wasn't going to play her game.

"And how many have __you__ lost, Doctor?" She watched his vacant expression with ease.

He tried not to think about how many companions he had lost, how many had suffered, how many had sacrificed themselves for him. It caused him far too much pain to dwell on what he would have done differently to save them all. And Clara, __his__ Clara, he refused to even think about the day she wouldn't be with him any longer.

She smirked at his silence and began playing with the loose strands of Clara's hair, twirling them around her finger. "There was once a time when I wondered to myself why you never chose __me__ ," she continued, "I mean, aside from all the times I tried to kill you. But who's counting?" She looked towards his companion and gently ran the back of her fingers along Clara's cheek as if she were nurturing her. Clara turned her head towards Missy and embraced her soft touches. "I suppose you could say I've always been a teensy bit jealous." She stopped herself and turned her attention back to him. "But who am I kidding. It would never have worked out, you and me. Too much history there."

He studied her. There was a time, back long ago, when he too would have wanted to travel with her by his side. Back when __she__ was a __he__ , back when they were just young boys trying too hard to become men. She had spent so long trying to convince him they were the same. As much as he would have denied it, there were times when he was just like her. Times when he had lost himself in destroying the lives of so many that he had to stop himself before he went too far. How easy it would be to become her, and yet so challenging to constantly remain the Doctor. He had seen the past, he had witnessed the future. Deep down he knew he was the only hope remaining able to save humans and aliens alike from death and extinction. Missy had chosen her path long ago, yet there would always remain a small sliver of hope he could one day change her.

"How did you get a copy of the TARDIS key?" he changed the subject.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet. Maybe you aren't as smart as you think you are," she teased. "You traded it to me, silly man. One key, for one glorious night of passion, with __her__ ," she gestured toward his companion. "And I'll say, it was rather steamy! Whew!" she added, fanning herself with her hand.

"That wasn't __me__ , it wasn't __us__! You had no right to violate our consent!" he shouted.

"Are you saying you've never thought about her that way before? I find that hard to believe. The way you protect her, the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with her."

He tried to ignore her accusations, yet the expression on his face betrayed him. What did she know about love? How could she possibly understand what Clara was to him?

"What do you want with her?" he inquired, his emotions having calmed themselves a bit. He watched as a smile spread like a disease over her face.

"Oh, Doctor. I think you know __exactly__ what I want." She reached towards Clara and pressed a gentle hand against his companion's belly, rubbing it affectionately.

The rage inside of him could be contained no longer. The realization of how far she had gone to arrange the series of events that had led up to this point consumed him. __If only you hadn't picked up that bloody phone!__ He silently cursed himself as the guilt of endangering his friend, and now his child, flooded his mind. He knew this was all his fault. He alone was responsible for Clara's irreversible fate. If it hadn't been for him, she would have remained safe and none of this would have happened. "And if I refuse?" The image of ending her over even the mere thought of her touching Clara or his child burned its way into his thoughts.

"Well, I'll put it this way." She took a small cylindrical object from her pocket, removed the cap, and began to re-apply her lipstick. "If you accept my offer you will get to keep your precious Clara and the TARDIS will be returned to you, key and all. You'll be off on your merry little way saving as many pathetic species from their doom as you want to. But if you refuse," she paused, replacing the cap to her lipstick, "then I promise you that Clara and your child will never be safe. I will never stop until I've found and vaporized them as you watch in horror. You can't be everywhere, Doctor. You can't always be there to save them. Run all you want but I... __will__... find you." She looked deeply into Clara's eyes. Placing a hand upon her cheek, she smiled and leaned in to press her lips to hers almost sincerely. Turning back to him, she pointed the lipstick towards Clara. A beam suddenly emitted from it and incinerated her as she screamed out in agony. And then she was gone.

" _NO!_ " he cried out, reaching towards the illusion of his friend dying by Missy's hand.

"Let's be honest here for a moment. The last thing you need in your life is to be domesticated. I can't imagine it would be easy to save an entire world from the dangers of the universe with the pitter-patter of little feet running about. That didn't work out for you so well the last time you were a father, now did it."

Missy's cruel words brought him to his knees, his hands cradled his head. The thought of losing Clara because of his mistakes ate away at his soul. He could feel his hearts ripping in half as the image of her dying played over and over in his head. She was more important to him than anything he treasured most, even himself. He would burn every star in the sky if only she had asked.

Missy disappeared from her seat in the audience and reappeared standing in front of him. "So, Doctor. What will it be? What is your answer?"

He lifted his head from his hands and glared at the beast in front of him. His eyes were wet with tears. He knew she would never stop hunting them until Clara was dead. He would never get to hold his child in his arms. It was tearing him apart. He would do anything to keep Clara alive, his love for her was more powerful than any army. There was only one thing he could do to save her.

"I accept."

* * *

Works Cited

"Time Heist." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Thompson and Steven Moffat, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 8, episode 5, BBC One, 20 September 2014.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The next sounds he heard were the chimes of the Comasphere. His eyes opened to search his surroundings. He was back in the auction room in the present time. The connection he had with Missy and the Persuader had vanished leaving him alone in his mind once again. He suddenly felt a tug at his shoulder.

"Doctor?" he heard Clara's voice call to him as his body regained all of its senses. "Doctor! Are you alright?!"

"Clara?" He turned towards the sound of her voice. His head ached from all it had been through but he was so glad to see her unharmed he ignored the pain. He took her hands in his and kissed them each. "I'm okay," he assured her. Before she could say anything more, they were interrupted by another voice in the room.

"Congratulations to you on your winnings, Mr Smith and Mrs Smith," Missy announced with a grin. "And as always, we give our thanks for your __very__ generous donation to our cause." The guests turned their heads towards the couple and applauded them. The Doctor remained speechless as the memory of their deal floated to the surface of his mind.

"Doctor?" Clara called to him over the sound of clapping and cheering. "What did you give her?"

Dread came over him as he tried not to look her in the eyes. He could think of nothing to say in reply. It was only a matter of time before he would have to tell her. Only a matter of time before she would start to notice her body showing signs of what they had done. It was a secret he just couldn't keep. But not here, not now. Not with all these prying eyes. "It's not important," he lied. "Let's just collect the TARDIS and get as far away from here as possible."

* * *

Clara hung up the dress in the wardrobe. She ran her hand along the fabric as if thanking it for allowing her to wear it. She thought about the night's events. The Doctor seemed rather upset after their departure from Prima Nova but refused to speak about it nor tell her how he managed to regain the TARDIS and the key. He was distant, hurrying to get them out of there. She hardly ever saw him like that. All she could manage to conclude was that he had let Missy get the best of him yet again. Shouldn't he be thrilled they had the ship back? Things could finally go back to normal now that they weren't running around the universe trying to decipher the meaning behind a piece of paper. So why was he so angry? Usually she just ignored him when he was this way, when he fell into one of his "moods".

She left the wardrobe and headed back towards the control room. Her mind wandered with the thought of why Missy had really brought them there. She half expected to run into a nearly inescapable trap they would have to fight their way through. She wondered what had happened while he was under the effects of the Comasphere. He seemed surprised to see her even though it felt as if only moments had passed since he went into his trance and was released from it.

As she made her way to the stairs, she heard the sound of metal clanking loudly as if something had fallen over above her. She hesitated, listening in, but then there was silence. She continued up the stairs and stopped as she reached the top. The room was in utter dismay. Things had been thrown everywhere, chairs and tables turned over, books had been pulled off their shelves, pieces of the console were sprawled around as if they had been ripped out. She carefully stepped over the clutter looking for the source. She saw the Doctor half-lying on the couch on the upper platform, the only piece of furniture untouched by his wrath, his face was hidden beneath his arm. She cautiously approached and took a seat beside him on the remaining cushion. She waited a bit, just letting him know she was there if he needed to talk. After a few moments, she finally spoke.

"Redecorating?" she asked, trying to keep the mood light. She heard a small snicker from underneath his sleeve.

"I felt the place could use a bit of sprucing up," he replied.

"Ah. I'm almost afraid to see what it looks like it when it's finished," she teased. She watched as he slowly sat up, his clothes dishevelled and askew, his hair a mess. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

"Oh, Clara," he uttered sorrowfully, unable to look at her. "What would I do without you?"

"You know you'd be completely lost without me. Why, were you planning on leaving me behind back there?"

He looked up from his hands and turned towards her, "Now that you mention it."

"Shut up," she laughed, lightly bumping her shoulder into his. They stayed in silence for a little while, just enjoying the company of one another. "Doctor, what's wrong?" she finally asked, bringing him back to the moment.

He nearly laughed at how loaded the answer to that question was. Instead, he stood and leaned his hands against the railing, his back facing her. What __wasn't__ wrong in their situation right now? He was carrying the weight of more than one unimaginable secret and an enormous amount of guilt. He was questioning everything he was, all the choices he had made in the past six weeks. The secrets housed within him were eating him away from the inside out. How could he possibly bring himself to tell her the truth? That she was pregnant with his child and he traded it away so he wouldn't have to be without her? That he couldn't bear to be alone? He was lost in the question of who he really was and what kind of man he had become. He closed his eyes. He remembered the first time he opened up to her in this form and allowed her to share a part of his pain.

 _ _His memory flashed back to a moment between them not so long ago. A conversation he'd never forget with the one woman he had been through so much with before becoming this version of himself. The only person to have witnessed this regeneration. The only person who cared for him enough to stick by him when even he didn't know who he was anymore.__

 _ _"Clara, Clara, Clara." He sat himself down at the top of the stairs. "I need something from you. I need the truth."__

 _ _"Okay. Right, what is it? What's-?" she stopped herself, realizing there was something really bothering him. "You're scared," she implied, consoling him on the stairs.__ _  
_

 _ _"I'm terrified."__ _  
_

 _ _"Of what?"__ _  
_

 _ _"The answer to my next question. Which must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint. Clara, be my pal and tell me. Am I a good man?"__ _  
_

 _ _After a moment of hesitation, taking the time to consider her answer carefully, she simply replied, "I don't know."__ _  
_

 _ _"Neither do I," he sighed.__

He knew each moment that passed from now until the moment he would have to tell her the truth were the only moments he had left with her the way she was right now. He tried to open his mouth to speak but no words escaped his lips. __Stop being a__ __coward and tell her!__ Was all he could think at the moment. "I think it would be best," he managed to say, yet they weren't the words he had planned, "if you went back to your flat. Get some rest."

She couldn't help but feel hurt by his words, that he didn't trust her enough to tell her what was going on in his head. But she knew him very well. She knew if he needed her to be there for him he knew where to find her. "I understand." She stood from her seat and hesitantly headed down the stairs. "So, I'll see you Wednesday then?" She watched him carefully and took in every detail of his expression, searching for anything that might reveal that everything was alright between them.

"I'm afraid not." His hands continued to grip the railing.

"The week after?" She could sense anger growing inside him, but what had she done wrong? Why wouldn't he just tell her? His silence made her heart tear. She began to wonder if perhaps whatever had happened between them was more serious than she had originally thought. She tried her hardest to stay strong as she forced a weak smile to her face and started for the door. Taking hold of the handle, she stopped herself from proceeding through. There were so many questions going through her mind but only one she really needed to know the answer to. "Doctor?" She turned back around to face him. He did not respond. Stepping back towards the console, she peered up at his hanging head. "Is this is goodbye?" she asked, patiently awaiting his answer. He remained silent. She could feel tears building up in her eyes and tried her hardest to hold them back. "If this is your way of saying goodbye, I think I deserve to know." His continued silence forced the tears down her face. She stepped closer to him, "Doctor, you're scaring me. Would you please talk to me!"

"And what would you have me say?!" he snapped back. He had lost control of everything he tried so hard to contain. The emotions flowing through him at the fear of losing her penetrated every cell in his body.

"Tell me what's wrong," she pleaded as the tears continued to flow down her face. "Please."

Seeing her so upset was killing him inside. The feelings he had for her buried deep within him were digging their way out. Yet all he could think about was how angry he was that Missy had violated his relationship with her, it drove him into a rage. Though there was a part of him that desired to be a father again, to be able to connect to the child growing inside of her once more, he knew it would be impossible unless he told her the truth. He was being torn apart by his cowardice, the guilt he would forever carry for agreeing to hand his own child over to a monster because of his selfishness. She would never forgive him. "I can't," was all he could say.

"Why not?" she asked defensively.

"Clara, I can't take you with me anymore." He couldn't even look at her, he didn't have to. He knew her face so well it was as if it had become a part of him.

"Tell me why," she demanded, taking another step towards him.

"It's too dangerous."

"Since when has that ever mattered? We take risks all the time! Every time I step into this box is a risk I am willing to take if it means we could save someone together."

"And why is it you even travel with me?" he countered, his words heated as he descended down the stairs towards her. "I'm sure there are plenty of others you'd rather be with than me. Isn't there some date you should be getting ready for? Some man out there you should be trying to impress? Who wants to have an old grump like me around, showing up uninvited, ruining their life?!"

"I'm not leaving here until you tell me the truth." She knew he was trying to push her away from whatever was frightening him.

"You wouldn't understand." He turned away from her again.

"What wouldn't I understand?! Or don't you trust me anymore?" She felt a burning in her throat from trying to keep down her hurt and anger.

"Of course I trust you!" he replied, still in a rage.

"Then tell me!"

"Clara, please!" He felt as if he was going to burst. He wanted to lash out at something, destroy something to make the pain desist.

"Tell me, Doctor! Why can't you take me with you anymore?!" she shouted.

He angrily turned around to face her. "Because you're pregnant!" he screamed aloud, then froze at his own words. He hadn't even realized he had uttered them until it was too late. All he could do was stare at her stilled expression until it had become far too unbearable. He placed his face in his hands and began to slowly pace in front of her, unable to compose himself.

She watched the frantic man, his words still processing in her mind. The thoughts running through her head at that moment were so greatly overlapping each other she couldn't even choose one coherent enough to express out loud. "You're right, I don't understand," were the only words she could think to say.

The Doctor stopped and turned towards her again, his eyes full of apology and remorse. "It's true," he admitted, taking a step closer.

"No." She stepped away, refusing to listen to his outrageous accusation. "I don't believe you. Show me."

A heavy sigh passed his lips as he took out his sonic-screwdriver and scanned her midsection. Turning to the console, he pressed a few buttons then brought the view-screen around for her to see. The images loaded up revealing a type of ultrasound technology she had never seen before. Glancing closer, she could see a distinct shape beneath her uterine wall. Its movements were so small she almost hadn't noticed them. Pressing a few more buttons, he enhanced the image even closer to the small being's chest. Clara stared in disbelief as she witnessed a pair of tiny hearts fill the screen, each beating in near unison. "A child of Gallifrey. Or more specifically, of Time Lord descent," he revealed, breaking the unbearable silence in the room.

Her eyes fixed themselves on the screen, remaining quiet for several moments as she continued to process the information given to her. "You're telling me this is __your__ child," she asked, pointing towards the screen.

"Well, __technically__ , she's ours," he answered, trying his hardest to sound sincere.

"She?" Clara brought her hand to her brow, unable to convince herself of what was happening. She couldn't help but wonder how this child came to be. How had she not known? She had spent so much time over the last six weeks pretending to resume her life as normal that she hadn't even noticed the changes in her body. The missed signs of upcoming motherhood. Worst of all, she felt a sense of violation with no memory of the act itself. "How?" she spoke harshly.

"It's sort of hard to explain."

"Try."

He ran his hand down his face in frustration trying to find the words she needed to hear. "Six weeks ago, you and I, under the control of the Persuaders. We..." He couldn't even say it. He felt the colour in his face flush with embarrassment.

"We what?" she asked, still in denial.

He sighed heavily and tried to grasp the words as they flew by him, "We... were mated. Non consensually."

"Mated? Like animals?" Her anger finally made its way to the surface of her emotions.

"In a sense."

"Why?" Her stated questions were sharp and to the point.

"I don't know. All of the events leading up to this point are part of some sort of underlying master plan devised by Missy. She brought us there together, she used us. Whatever her end game is, I haven't entirely figured it out just yet. All I do know is that this child was created as part of a bigger missing piece to the puzzle. Whatever Missy has planned, it's too dangerous for me to involve you any further." He watched her reaction carefully. Her lips were sealed shut, tears fell from her face, her glazed over eyes were unable to even look at him.

"No," she replied, finally breaking the silence between them. "I don't believe it. I don't believe any of this!" She backed away from him, now terrified. "How do I know any of this is even real? Memory worms, Comaspheres, Persuaders. How do I know this isn't some big lie I'm being fed while my real body is sitting back in that auction room, or in my own bed?"

He stepped towards her again, "Clara-"

"Stop!" she shouted, taking steps away to protect herself from him. "How do I even know __you__ are real, that you aren't just some figment of my imagination trying to deceive me? How do I know we aren't still being controlled and all of this is isn't just an illusion? How can you prove to me any of this is really happening, that it is the real you standing in front of me right now?" She questioned even her own existence, unable to trust her own eyes.

"Clara," he repeated genuinely. He stepped closer, his hands raised in a peaceful gesture to show he would not harm her. She allowed him to approach. He stopped just in front of her as she gazed tearfully into his eyes. He slowly took her hands in his, experiencing the noticeably small amount of electricity running through them. "I can assure you, I am real." He raised her hands to his chest and pressed them against each of his hearts. " _ _This__ is real." She could feel the deep beating inside his chest through her palms. Each beat underneath her fingers became quite soothing, she felt a sense of calmness settle inside of her. "And this," he lowered his hand and pressed it softly against her belly, "this is __very__ real." He closed his eyes and took in every bit of warmth emanating from within her as it began to rise up his hand. "I can feel her." He pressed slightly harder, his fingers spreading across the almost undetectable curve of her womb.

Clara embraced every moment of his touch on her body. She could feel the same warmness inside of her that she had felt before. As the tears continued to make their way down each cheek, she began to finally accept all that he had told her. "You've seen her?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Oh Clara, she is so beautiful." He opened his eyes again to meet her tearful expression, sensing the fear beginning to rise within her. They had never been through anything even remotely close to this before. He could only imagine how scared she must be. He was riddled with guilt for having caused it by sparing her from the knowledge he chose to imprison inside himself to protect her. What he wouldn't give to comfort her, to be able to put her mind at ease, to tell her how sorry he was. But he was just as frightened of what she would do the moment she discovered what he had done as he was of losing her.

As she laid her head upon his chest, her tears began to soak into his shirt. She could hear his hearts beating faster as he cautiously wrapped her in a close embrace and rested his cheek upon her head. The events of the evening leading up to that very moment were preoccupying her thoughts with uncertainty. How long had he known? His anger and rampage of the control room made her afraid of how he truly felt about his child growing inside of her. "But do you want her?" she asked, tearfully clinging to him.  
The question both surprised and frightened him. He wanted to tell her, "more than anything." Yet, at the same time, he knew he couldn't get attached. He made a deal with Missy. Pouring his love towards this child would only make her that much harder to give up. He had already made the decision for all three of them without any regard to how Clara felt. He had no choice. It was either give up the child or watch them both die. Either way, there would be no living with himself, no forgiveness to receive.

The hesitation in his answer made Clara's head rise to meet his fearful expression. "Do you?" She stepped back from him to study his reaction, observing the look of panic as it spread across his face. He could barely look her in the eyes. His hands shook beside him uncontrollably. He wasn't ready to tell her the truth, she had already endured far too much for one night. "I see," she stated coldly, holding back the anger she felt over his apparent denial towards any responsibility for the outcome of her conception. "I think you're right. I think it's best if we don't see each other anymore."

"Clara, wait-" he tried to protest.

"No, Doctor. This is something I can handle on my own. We both know the last thing you want is a child running around in here cramping your style. The great Time Lord. The man I knew you as before spent over nine-hundred years saving a town of innocent people from annihilation while countless armies attacked them over and over again. That man sacrificed who he was for them to become someone so scared and cowardly he'd run away from even the thought of his own child," she accused him, fighting back her tears as she stormed towards the door.

Her words cut him like knives which quickly brought out the worst in him. Would she forever be reminding him that he could never be the man he once was to her, that he could never replace the love she had for his past self? He cared for her even more so now than he ever did then. He was so quick to send her away back on Trenzalore. She knew he was protecting her even though she ended up saving __him__ in the end. But now, she had absolutely no idea what he'd be willing to sacrifice to keep her safe. What he had done and would do again if it meant she'd live. If only he could tell her how much she meant to him but feared she'd never accept him in this body, this person he had become. Even now, the anger inside of him only grew as he realized he'd never be good enough for her. "And what will you do now?" The resentfulness in his temper had escalated beyond his control. "Run back to P.E.? I'm sure he'll welcome you with open arms after he finds out you're carrying another man's child. We both know he's not fond of me, I can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out she's mine."

Halted by his spiteful words, she turned back around. Her face was red with fury. "Goodbye, Doctor." Her angered tears fell to the floor. "Don't come looking for us," she warned. Taking her leave of the room, she slammed the door behind her and left him alone within his own silence.

He closed his eyes as a thousand regrets came barrelling into his head. Again he could hear the voices of their past playing through his mind just as he had remembered them.

 _ _"__ _ _When will I see you again?" she asked.__ _  
_

 _ _"Oh, soon I expect. Or later, one of those," he answered. He watched her open the door to the ship to leave then turn back to him.__ _  
_

 _ _"I don't know," she stated confidently.__ _  
_

 _ _"I'm sorry?"__ _  
_

 _ _"You asked me if you are a good man and the answer is, I don't know. But I think you try to be, and I think that's probably the point."__ _  
_

 _ _"I think you're probably an amazing teacher," he replied with a smile.__ _  
_

 _ _"I think I'd better be."__

And then she was gone.

* * *

Works Cited

"Into the Dalek." _Doctor Who_ , written by Phil Ford and Steven Moffat, directed by Ben Wheatley, season 8, episode 2, BBC One, 30 August 2014.

"The Time of the Doctor." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Jamie Payne, season 7, episode 7, BBC One, 25 December 2013.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Two and a half months had passed by almost faster than Clara even realized. So much had happened since the last time she saw the Doctor. The look upon his face as she left him in his ship for the last time burned itself into her memory. She tried not to think about him, about the anger she felt towards his actions. It was as if there was an enormous void in her life after she left. And Danny, though she still had him, for now, he hadn't taken the news well.

 _ _"__ _ _There's something I need to tell you."__ _  
_

 _ _"I love you too," he replied, smiling brightly.__ _  
_

 _ _"Oh, uh, yes that!" she tried to sound sincere as the words she needed to say were stuck trying to escape. She stared down at the table and absent-mindedly fiddled with the untouched food on her plate.__ _  
_

 _ _"Is there something else?" he asked, observing her distracted gaze.__ _  
_

 _ _"Um, well..."__

 _ _Later, she watched as a now enraged Danny angrily paced back and forth. His eyes refused to make contact with hers. He screamed out in frustration as she continued to sit, too ashamed and terrified to move.__ _  
_

 _ _"It's his, isn't it?!" he screamed towards her.__ _  
_

 _ _"Yes," she whispered as tears fell down her face.__ _  
_

 _ _"How could you do this to me?! I love you!" His rage was bursting out in all directions.__ _  
_

 _ _"Danny, please! It wasn't like that!"__ _  
_

 _ _"Tell me then, Clara. What was it like?" He glared at her.__ _  
_

 _ _"You wouldn't understand," she replied, shocked at herself as the Doctor's words rung in her ears.__ _  
_

 _ _"Oh, I understand perfectly. You love him, don't you?"__ _  
_

 _ _"No, not in that way." She was so quick to answer she didn't even know if she was being genuine or not. She didn't know what to feel about him anymore.__ _  
_

 _ _"Tell me the truth," he demanded. His suspicion of her true feelings for the Doctor had taken precedence in his thoughts ever since the moment he discovered with whom she had been spending all of her free time.__ _  
_

 _ _"It wasn't consensual."__ _  
_

 _ _"You're telling me he raped you?!" His temper exploded.__ _  
_

 _ _"No! He would never do that! That's not what happened!" she exclaimed.__ _  
_

 _ _"So he had his way with you," he continued, ignoring her words and making his own assumptions, "then dumped you off here to raise his kid alone while he ran away like a coward?"__ _ _His words brought her to tears as she shielded her face in her hands. He continued to pace in silence, his hands grabbed the sides of his head as he tried to control his fury. "I can't do this anymore, Clara. This, this is just too much for me." He snatched up his coat and headed for the door, slamming it shut behind him.__

She spent the next few weeks after their fight barely able to bring herself out of her bed, her pillow constantly wet with tears. They had to bring in a substitute for her at her the school, informing them she was recovering from a serious flu, but in reality, she couldn't bear even the thought of passing him the halls. Then one day, she heard a knock at her door. She rushed to it, her heart racing, hoping to see her best friend as she threw open the door. But it wasn't who she expected.

 _ _"__ _ _I'm sorry,"__ _ _Danny admitted, his hand wrapped around a fresh bouquet of flowers. She stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Look, this isn't easy for me. It's not every day your girlfriend tells you she's pregnant with an alien." A small smile escaped her at his words. "I want to make this work. If he doesn't want to be there for his own kid, then that's on him." He stared sadly into her eyes. "Clara, I love-" he tried to say as she rushed to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. He embraced her, kissing her in return, then walked them back into her flat kicking the door closed behind them.__

She found herself sitting alone on a park bench taking a break from the constant guilt she carried for pulling Danny into the insanity that was her life. After she felt ready enough to return to the school, she began to regret it almost immediately. All the questions she was receiving and not knowing how to answer them became increasingly unbearable as more and more people began to notice the obvious secret extending from her middle. The gossip going around the school was enough to fill a magazine.

She sometimes caught herself thinking about the Doctor and what he was doing right then. Did he even miss her? Was he still thinking about her while he was off somewhere billions of miles away? She tried to push the feelings away, it wasn't fair to Danny. She had already caused him enough pain, and yet he was still there picking up the pieces of her messy life.

She glanced down at her small belly just barely big enough to rest on its own in her lap. She placed her hand over her growing child hoping to feel any sign of life inside of her. She wondered what she would look like. Would she have her mother's stubbornness? Her father's frown? Possibly both. She hadn't felt the warmth since she was back on the TARDIS, the warmth she knew was her baby trying to communicate the only way she could. Clara had no way of knowing how she was developing as she refused to be seen by a physician against Danny's wishes. She was too afraid that by the time they would have determined her child had two hearts she'd be whisked off by U.N.I.T. and confined to a room where they forced her to explain how she was carrying an alien offspring. She feared they would interrogate her, threaten her, and when the time came for her to give birth, the child would be taken from her to have experiments performed. There was no one she could trust, except for Danny. Although she was quite certain he'd make a fairly terrible wet nurse.

She felt slightly disappointed by the lack of movement, yet believed it was far too early to detect anything just yet. As much as she tried to keep from thinking about the Doctor, it was nearly impossible as the evidence that he would always be a part of her life, whether he was there or not, was living and growing inside her. A constant reminder of him.

As she gently felt around her abdomen, she was surprised when she finally did feel something. Not a movement, a feeling. Her hand stopped over where she last felt it. A warmth. Her mouth opened and let out a gasp as the sensation began to intensify. So very light at first, and then brighter and brighter until she could feel the warmth over nearly her entire body. She felt the happiness returning to her mind once more as tears formed in her eyes. It had been so long since she last experienced it she almost forgot what it felt like. And then she understood why.

Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, her happiness suddenly melted away. She felt her face frown and her eyes roll with irritability as she sensed someone drawing near her from behind. She refused to turn around or even acknowledge their presence. The man took a seat next to her on the small bench. Neither one of them spoke as they looked out onto the empty green field in front of them.

The Doctor crossed his arms and pretended not to look at her. He had caught a glimpse of her as he sat down, his eyes observing the start of her more rounded middle. He could sense the warmth of his child from miles away as if she were welcoming him, happy to be feeling his presence again. He knew she wanted him to find her, for the three of them to be together again. They sat in silence for what seemed like ages.

Clara wanted to scream at him, for him to understand how much she wanted to hate him right then. She told him not to come looking for them. He had no business bursting back into her life trying to become a part of it after he had so easily let her walk out that door. She concentrated on fighting back her tears so he didn't see her as weak. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

"Over one-hundred and eighty years from now, this entire area will be nothing but ocean. This bench and all of London will be resting miles under the surface of millions of tons of seawater as the northern ice caps melt from the expanding sun. By the twenty-fourth century, all of London will cease to exist."

"Doctor," she finally replied, still unable to look in his direction. "Why are you here-?"

"Shhhh!" he interrupted her, placing a finger to his lips. "I'm not speaking to you." After a moment, he leaned his head down towards her middle, speaking softly and pointing off in the distance. "Nearly seven-hundred years from now all of this you see will be converted into Central City. And right over there is where they will build the capitol building at the start of the twenty-eighth century. One day, when you're older, I can take you to see it being built if you'd like."

Clara wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to hold back the small smile yearning to form. She was still so unbelievably cross with him. As often as she tried, she never truly understood why he was the way he is. She knew there would be no apology from him, he was much too proud for that. But a part of her did forgive him for his actions. Though he had risked her life an uncountable number of times, he would never have intentionally hurt her. His reaction to her condition proved he was just as shocked by the existence of his child as she was. As much as she tried to deny it these past few months, he was still her best friend and her child's father. Being around him changed her. No matter how hard she tried to stay mad at him, she really did love him.

After a few moments, she found herself leaning in to rest her head against his shoulder. He placed a loving arm around her to hold her close to him. As the silence grew between them, they instead enjoyed each other's company as the sun began to set in the sky.

* * *

"She's doing remarkably well," the Doctor confirmed, returning his sonic-screwdriver to his breast pocket. "And you haven't been to see anyone? No doctors?"

"No, no one," she admitted.

"Good girl. If U.N.I.T. were to get their hands on you, they'd be spending months cleaning up the damage I caused to get you out." He felt complete again with her back on the ship as if she had never really gone. He had spent their time apart attempting to devise a plan to relieve himself of Missy's deal. One that he hadn't quite plotted out entirely as he was frustrated and distracted, unable to focus on his work without the presence of Clara stirring about the ship. He couldn't concentrate on what he should be doing, his mind constantly wandering and worrying about whether she and the child were safe without him there to protect them.

As for Clara, she wasn't exactly sure why she agreed to follow him back to the TARDIS after they left the park. She'd like to have believed he had convinced her to come with him based solely on his concern for the health of their child, to make sure she was being taken care of. But Clara knew he didn't need the ship to do that. She pretended she didn't see him quickly glance over at her several times while pretending to push important buttons on the console. Their current relationship was both awkward and oddly comfortable all at the same time as if nothing had actually happened between them.

"I see P.E. has been taking good care of you," he noted, trying not to sound like he was prying.

"It's __Danny__. And yes, he has. We're officially a couple now, _again_." She suddenly realized the guilt she felt for even being with the Doctor right then after everything that had happened between them. After all that Danny had done for her, if he were to find out where she had been all evening...

"Are you!" he inquired, faking surprise.

"Yeah, uh, he's been really supportive and accepting. All things considered of course."

"Of course," he agreed, attempting to keep his jealousy to a minimum. "So, do you two...?" His brow raised with sudden interest.

"Doctor."

"Right right, none of my business!" He remained casual, yet was unable to relieve himself of the thoughts of her promiscuous acts with another man while his child still thrived within her.

Clara smiled over the thought of being home again, even if she didn't actually live there. Something about being back on the ship made her feel secure again. As would a son or daughter, long since having left their parents' house to pursue their dreams on an uncharted path, made their way back home for the holidays after being away for what felt like ages. The smell of their mother's cooking, the laughter between friends and family as they spoke of the good old days, the feeling of being back in their old room to find it looked just the way they remembered it.

She found herself running her hand along the familiar surface of the console, letting her fingers slowly graze over the buttons she had watched him press a thousand times. Her hand travelled along the edge until she was standing beside him again. "You know," she started, their hands nearly making contact with each other, "I think she missed you."

He felt his hearts skip a beat as he noticed himself glancing down at the proximity of their hands and how close she was to him. "Did she?" he whispered, not entirely sure it was the child in which she was speaking but hadn't yet ruled out the possibility of her hormones having taken over. He watched her gaze up at him, her eyes drawing him into hers. She was so close he could feel his hands begin to tremble as he fought to remain calm.

"When you were gone, I stopped feeling her happiness," she continued, unable to explain the exhilaration she was experiencing being so close to him. Her heart became rapid as the thought of him wrapping his arms around her betrayed everything she had been feeling since his absence. It was as if there was a fire burning in her that could not be contained. She caught herself glancing at his lips, desiring to feel them against her own. "But now that we are standing here together again, I can feel her warmth growing inside of me." She gently took his trembling hand in hers and slowly brought it to her middle to press it carefully over their child, "Right here."

A quiet gasp left him at her touch. His mind raced with a hundred thoughts, his body shuddered with arousal. The man he thought he was would have looked away, caused a distraction, anything to get out of what it meant to feel for her. Yet he couldn't resist her eyes. It was as if they contained the map of an entire galaxy just waiting to be explored by him if only he dared to look deep enough.

As much as he wanted to resist, his mind torn between fleeing from where he stood or enduring the exhilarating touch of his hand over the swell of her belly, there was another secret he had been keeping from her. Another reason to have not pursued her after their last heated encounter. The intense love he had for her brought on by the Persuader was still veritably present inside of him. He knew that was how the creatures functioned but had been too afraid to admit it. Once they had a hold of their victim, they released a kind of snare into the brain, like a tiny splinter embedded into the tissue that could never be removed. They could sink an idea into the mind like a virus slowly spreading its way through it. Once they finally released themselves from the host, their prey would be plagued with the desire to fulfil the obligations of their own mind, remaining with them forever. He knew the illness inside of him was part of the driving force keeping him close to her, never too far away. But it meant something much worse. That she was also infected. Her sudden strong affections towards him were even more of a sign the virus was affecting her body. He could detect her endorphins drawing him in, becoming intoxicated by her pheromones. His possessive paternal desires brought a sense of power over her as if he were prideful that it was __his__ seed growing inside of her. Like a dominant animal warding off the other males from his mate. As hard as he tried to remain unattached to the child growing inside of her, preparing himself for what was to come, his illness was making it increasingly unbearable to imagine having to give her up with each passing moment he endured her warmth.

He could feel her deep breathing, her diaphragm expanding and retracting in the palm of his hand. The familiar warmth began to rise throughout his body like sunlight as he spread his fingers over her swollen abdomen and protectively pressed his hand over their growing child. Without even realizing it, his remaining hand found its way to her waist as if it had a mind of its own. He felt her warm gentle breath on his neck. The sickness inside of him was too powerful to ignore. "It's almost as though," he began to say, nervous of his own actions, "she's been trying to bring us closer together." The hand he claimed on her waist gently pulled her into him, feeling her middle carefully press against his own.

A small gasp escaped her as she lost herself in his embrace. "Wouldn't that be terrible," she teased, feeling her face flush as a heated passion for him began to rise in her like a fever.

"Unimaginably," he whispered. He had no control over his actions any longer, his eyes stared at her lips as if he were starving for them. He slowly lowered his head towards hers, their lips just inches away from one another. Their eyes closed in anticipation of their skin's connection together. Suddenly, an unexpected noise from behind her interrupted the moment between them. The vibrating sound of a phone ringing from Clara's back pocket brought them both out of the occasion. "That must be P.E., sorry, __Danny,__ wondering where you've run off to." He sighed and held back his irritation, releasing his grasp on her. He watched her retrieve the phone from her pocket to stare at the screen, suddenly being brought back to her reality.

"I'm sorry," she confessed. "I have to take this."

He motioned for her to do what she felt she had to, then leaned his hands upon the console and forced himself not to tear off a panel in frustration. She stepped away and answered the call.

"Danny! Hi!" she began, trying to sound excited to hear from him. "I was at the park, just making my way back now. No, no. I can walk, it's not far. I'm almost home. Yes, we're doing just fine." She smiled and placed a hand on her middle. She then turned back towards the Doctor, her eyes connecting to his. "Yep, just me." She ignored his frowning brow. "Okay. Yep, love you too. See you soon." Ending the call, she placed the phone back into her pocket.

"Big plans tonight?" he inquired.

"Nah, just dinner at my place," she replied, holding back her guilt.

"I suppose I couldn't offer you a lift then?" He ran his hand along the edge of the console as if to tempt her.

"I better not," she admitted. He nodded his head in understanding. "Well, guess I should get going then. In case he shows up before me."

"Guess so," he replied disappointedly.

She headed for the door, hesitating just before reaching it, then turned back around. "When can I see you again?"

A smile formed on his face at the question, "As soon as you'd like."

"Good." She returned the smile, then exited the ship.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Over a month had come and gone since the day he found her at the park and brought her back "home". She came to visit him as often as she could. The more he saw her the more he felt whole again. Though she rarely brought up her personal life, he was fairly certain she had been sneaking away in order to see him. It was as if she were a young girl waiting until dark for her parents to go to sleep before heading stealthily out her window to go visit a boy. The more their child grew inside of her the greater the risk of travelling with her had become. He felt the need to constantly invent new excuses not to bring her anywhere in order to keep them safe. It was becoming far too dangerous for both of them.

The Doctor was seated with his feet on the console, a late twentieth-century electric guitar in hand and playing a tune while deep in thought. He had spent the past several hours tinkering around the control room working on a possible cure for their disease but had given up when what little information he could find available claimed there was none. Turning towards the console, he initiated a complete scan of his body. The results displayed shortly after on the view-screen in front of him. The TARDIS had identified the foreign object in his mind, almost completely unnoticeable to the naked eye. Enhancing the scan, he was able to see the area in which the small sliver was lodged. The impact of it had slowly been spreading over more of his brain as time progressed. Sighing, he tapped a button on the console which replaced his scan with the most recent one he had taken of Clara during her last visit, unbeknownst to her of its true intent. He felt it best to let her believe he was scanning for abnormalities within their child rather than frighten her with news of their incurable illness. The results showed the same progression of the virus running through her frontal lobe impacting her emotions and behaviours.

Such a capable creature the Persuader was. Able to turn any good and honest person into a monstrous one, as well as the reverse. Because of the nature of their snare after it had been implanted, one could not simply wipe the memories from their minds attempting to void out the effects. Therefore, the memory worms were useless in this case and far too dangerous. A single touch of the worm's skin could vary in the length of time a memory could be erased; anywhere from a few hours to a few days. A single bite from one could erase decades worth of memories. For Clara, that could mean her entire lifetime's worth resulting in her not even knowing who she was any longer. For him, he could risk erasing her completely from his mind forever.

The longer she stayed with him the greater the passionate tensions arose between them. As exhilarating as the desires he had for her were, he knew he had to find another way to reverse the effects of the virus before it became too dangerous for both of them. He needed to be able to have control over his own thoughts again before he found himself in a situation where he had to make a clear decision, unable to make a choice because his mind was constantly clouded with the thought of his companion. Just as she needed to be able to choose to stay with him if she wanted to on her own, not because she was being forced to by an unyielding passion for him. Until he could find a fix, he felt it best to remain silent on the matter of their illness.

As he sat strumming his guitar and drawing upon possible solutions to their problem, he was suddenly startled by a most unsettling noise resonating from somewhere deep within the ship. A hauntingly sorrowful moan that sent a chill down his spine. He was frozen with fright as the noise emanated like an echo from an unknown source. Then it faded away as quickly as it had begun. Hoping the only explanation behind the sound was that it was simply a figment of his imagination, he was almost too terrified to even consider investigating when the door to the TARDIS opened and Clara burst in unexpectedly. Her face was flushed and damp as if she had been chased there.

"Did you hear it?!" he inquired urgently, his face still full of fear.

"Hear what?" she asked nearly panting as she closed the door behind her.

"Nothing. Well, _probably_ nothing. Never mind." He noticed her heavy breathing and suddenly became worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"She moved!" she announced after finally catching her breath.

"Who did?" He wondered how concerned he should be with his companion's sudden outburst.

"The baby, she moved!" She started to approach him.

"...to where?"

"No, you daft man! I __felt__ her move, inside me." She leaned on the console to steady herself and waited for her heart to stop racing.

"Is that... normal?" he asked, unsure of how to respond.

"I should hope so," she answered, now much more recovered. She took notice of his guitar and the overall clutter surrounding him. "What have you been doing in here?"

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Why is your face all red?" he asked, avoiding the subject.

"I ran here."

"You look like you just had a wash with your clothes on."

"It's raining."

"Were you in some kind of danger?"

"No," she quickly stated, ignoring his questioning brow. "I just wanted to see you is all. I was thinking maybe I should be here, you know, in case she moved again." She thought about how his lack of emotional response towards any situation, including this one, was the main reason she created cue cards for him to read off of in the first place. Although, the thought of having to add an additional situational card for "sorry I put my alien offspring inside of you" had crossed her mind.

"Ah, well, that sounds more like __your__ area of expertise."

"Right then," she conceded, knowing it would be pointless to spend her energy trying to reverse his remarkable disinterest in the changes going on inside of her. "Anyway, Danny's away visiting friends over the weekend. I felt it best if I didn't tag along. You know, would probably raise a lot of... questions," she gestured towards her middle. "So, for the next two days, it's just you and me."

"I take it you haven't mentioned anything to him yet, about me," he stated dryly, leaning the guitar on the console as he stood from the chair. Moving away from her, he quickly cleared the view-screen from the evidence of their scans.

"Haven't really found the right moment yet." She tucked her hair behind her ear and approached him at the console. "Besides, I didn't know how long you planned on sticking around this time."

He sighed, not entirely sure how to respond. All he knew was that he didn't want to fight with her. He didn't want to ruin whatever they were to each other now. "Listen, Clara. I-"

"I know," she stopped him. "Look, let's just enjoy this time for what it is. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, knowing better than to argue with a pregnant woman.

"So, can we go somewhere?" she asked with a bit of excitement.

"Clara, I really don't think that would be in your best interest right now." He moved around the console away from her while trying to ignore the temptation.

"Please?" She followed after him.

"No, I don't think so." He moved faster, creating as much distance from her as he could.

"Come on! You know you want to!" She gave chase. "Just think of all the adventures you're missing out on while you've been sitting around here moping!"

"I'm not moping! It's far too risky for a woman in your... situation." He continued to circle the barrier between them like a game of cat and mouse.

"Just a little trip?"

"Why even go anywhere? Plenty of stuff to do right here!" He stopped at the view-screen and started typing in a few local locations. "Didn't they just open that new shopping... thing... with the clothes? That sounds much safer. Besides, you could do with an upgrade." He gestured towards her appearance.

"Doctor, please." She pulled the view-screen out of his reach. "I haven't been anywhere in weeks!"

He sighed knowing he was about to give in as he looked at her pouting face. "Fine, but just one trip! And nowhere too exciting. Wouldn't want this to become a thing."

"Deal," she agreed, smiling up at him.

"And stop it with the eyes! Don't do that with the eyes. How do you do that anyway? It's like they inflate!" He added, becoming soft.

* * *

Works Cited

"Dark Water." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 11, BBC One, 1 November 2014.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 _London, England 1865_

Clara opened the door to the TARDIS and confidentially stepped outside the box. She had graciously substituted her damp clothing for a maroon-coloured mid-nineteenth-century European day dress with matching chemisette as per request from the Doctor before their departure. He soon appeared next to her from the doorway bearing a similar in colour waistcoat and trousers and placed a black top hat upon his head.

It was early evening. The lamps on the streets were in the process of being lit as a light snow began to cover the cobblestone path in front of them. The doors to the small residences on the alley had been decorated with ribbons and holly. The scent of wood being burned from the nearby chimneys filled the air. The faint sound of carollers could be heard from somewhere nearby giving off the warm-hearted feeling of Christmas time. A horse-drawn carriage made its way passed as the coachman tipped his hat in greeting towards them.

"Remind me where we are again?" she requested, leaning in towards the old man.

"London, eighteen sixty-five," he informed her, taking in the fresh air around them.

"All the planets and stars in the universe at our disposal and you went with Earth," she frowned, fastening the button of her small fitted coat.

"What's wrong with Earth?"

"Did people seriously wear this many layers of clothing? I think even my sweat is sweating."

"Have I mentioned how lovely you look when you're trying?" He smiled at her appearance.

"You're being nice. Why are you being nice?" She raised a curious brow.

"Because it works on you. Shall we?" He gestured forward.

"Probably could have done without the corset though, how did women even breathe in these things?" She adjusted her undergarment attempting to relieve the pressure to her waist, then took his arm as he led them down the path. The alley was fairly busy with life. A few children were playing in the fresh snow as the shop owners were locking up their doors for the night. Several young couples strolled arm in arm. The men tipped their hats in acknowledgement of each other as a few noticeable glances were given in her direction from the wandering eyes of the ladies they were accompanied by. If there was ever a time for a young woman such as herself to be with child while escorted by a gentleman much older than her and not feel a sense of judgement from the norms of society it would be then.

They continued to walk through the town. Clara took in every moment she could as she felt it would likely be her last trip with him for the foreseeable future. The last hurrah. She observed the various passing scents of supper being served from their pots, the gathering of friends and family around their small tables. To her surprise, the Doctor remained fairly quiet in lieu of normal conversation unlike their previous journeys together. For once he wasn't looking for danger, analysing objects out of place or people not meant to be there. It was as if he truly was there just for her with no sign of an underlying motive to be unearthed.

"I've been thinking," she started, putting the silence to rest.

"I thought I detected burning wires."

"Shut up." She lightly smacked his arm.

"You know, you should really come with a warning label. 'Small but fiery, please use extreme caution.'"

She ignored his humour, "We haven't really discussed much from that night, back on Prima Nova."

"What is there to discuss?" He tried to avoid where he knew the conversation was headed.

"Well, for one, how did we get back the first time? How did we end up back at my flat in the TARDIS?"

"I don't know. The link to the Persuader was broken before I could receive all of my memories." He tried to remain as vague as possible hoping she would accept what little information he had to offer.

"Okay, so what __did__ the Persuader show you?"

"Oh, images really," he answered nervously. "A bit of sporadic bits and pieces here and there. It's all one big blur." He felt his face flush from the lie.

Clara studied his expression. She could always tell when he was keeping something from her. He had this funny way of humouring a situation whenever he knew they were in danger so she wouldn't fret herself over their impending doom. "Are you blushing?" she inquired, smiling coyly.

"It's the cold."

"You're hiding something."

"Look who's become the expert."

"You're being mysterious, and you know what that means?"

"I'm a man of mystery."

"I think you saw more than you've been letting on." She tested his reaction carefully.

"And I think you're being ridiculous." He attempted to defuel the conversation yet knew she would never give up so easily.

After only a moment of the wheels turning in her head, she turned back to him. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, the realization finally hitting her. "You saw __everything__ , didn't you?! You saw us! __Together__! In the act!" She began to understand why he had been acting so strangely around her, why he could barely look her in the eyes anymore.

"Can't be sure what I saw. It was all a jumbled mass of... body shapes... mixing together. Could have been anyone." He forced himself to keep focused on anything but her, his face fought to not reveal any possible reaction she could read. Feeling her eyes peering into the side of his face, he couldn't help but turn back to her. She remained fixed on him. Her brow raised even farther, unwilling to back down from the topic. "Alright, fine!" he conceded, lowering his voice so as not to attract attention to their conversation. "Yes, I saw everything! Every bloody detail. There, are you happy?" He sighed with frustration over his own embarrassment.

She looked towards the ground and shielded her face as she reflected upon the idea of what he had seen. Her imagination ran wild with the possibilities of what they had done together. A small smile passed over her face as her cheeks lit up bright red. "So, was it memorable?" she teased, trying not to laugh at the irony.

"Clara, do we really have to discuss this now?" He frowned at her humour.

"Is there something __else__ you'd like to talk about?" she wondered, knowing how much had been left unsaid up until this point. He remained quiet. She felt perhaps he was still trying to relieve himself of the returned memories. Yet, for him, they had never truly gone. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence. "There are thousands of places we could have gone at any point in time. Why this one?"

"I wanted to show you something." His arm still bound to hers, he continued to lead her through the small alley. Passing through a narrow archway to the next path, he stopped suddenly as a familiar sight came into view. Several paces in front of them stood a small tavern, above it an inn. The lamps were still lit inside accompanied by the sounds of laughter as the guests clinked their cups together in celebration. Just above the door to the establishment, a decorative wooden sign hung with the words "The Rose & Crown" just as he remembered it.

"You brought me to a pub," she frowned.

"This is where I first saw your face." He studied her reaction and took in every detail of her as if trying to recall how it felt the first time he saw her in his last body. Back when he wasn't the Doctor. Back when he was no longer interfering with the lives of those he had once promised to save.

She glanced up at him, a confused look upon her face. "How is that possible? I've never been here before."

"She was another version of you. A part of you that you don't remember, but she was still you."

"I don't understand."

"Back on Trenzalore you started to remember things you shouldn't have. Impossible memories that should have been erased from time itself. After you entered my timeline, echoes of you spread throughout each of my lifetimes. The first time I ever heard your voice was at the Dalek Asylum. I didn't know it was you." He looked deeply into her eyes, "You sacrificed yourself to save me, Clara."

She was left speechless by his words, suddenly experiencing an unusual sensation taking place in the back of her mind as if they had somehow had this conversation before. After he had saved her from entering his timeline, her memory of it felt as if it had been scattered across all of time and space. They never really spoke about what happened in there again, but now it made sense to her why. He didn't want to risk any of her memories resurfacing. __But why tell me now,__ she wondered?

"And right here," he continued, "nearly thirty years from now, this is where I will first meet Clara Oswin Oswald. The impossible barmaid and governess. She hasn't even been born yet." His mind flooded with the thought of their first meeting face to face.

 _ _"__ _ _Did you make this snowman?" asked the barmaid in her heavy cockney accent.__ _  
_

 _ _"No," said the man, continuing to walk passed her.__ _  
_

 _ _"Well, who did? Because it wasn't there a second ago. It just appeared, from nowhere."__ _  
_

 _ _The man, halted by his curiosity, turned around to meet the face of the young woman. "Maybe it's snow that fell before. Maybe it remembers how to make snowmen."__ _  
_

 _ _"What, snow that can remember? That's silly."__ _  
_

 _ _"What's wrong with silly?"__ _  
_

 _ _"Nothing. Still talking to you, ain't I?" She jested with a smile.  
__

 _ _"What's your name?" His interest was now piqued as if he had met her somewhere before.  
__

 _ _"Clara."  
__

 _ _"Nice name, Clara. You should definitely keep it."__

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, bringing him back to the moment between them.

"I was in a dark place then. I had renounced my name, given up everything I ever stood for. I hid away in the TARDIS for a long time, refusing to keep a promise I made long ago. I felt the universe didn't need me anymore, that it didn't care who I saved. Until I met you." He turned to face her, taking her hands in his, "You brought me back to life, Clara. You reminded me of who I really am. The Doctor. It's because of you those two words have meaning once again."

"But she wasn't me," she added, saddened by his fond memories of which she had no part of.

"Oh, but she was. They're all you. She's the reason I set out to find you, __this__ you. If it weren't for her I would have been lost, forever roaming the world hoping one day I'd find her again. And here you are."

"I-I don't know what to say," she confessed as his words began to touch her heart. She looked into his eyes, for the first time truly understanding how much she meant to him. "What happened to her?" She watched as he brought her hands to his lips and kissed them gently, forcing a saddened smile to his face. Though he didn't answer, he didn't need to. She understood. "I'm so sorry, Doctor," she consoled him as her heart tore for her friend. "Thank you for showing me this." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close to her, placing her head upon his chest. He hesitantly closed his arms around her and embraced her affectionate gesture. As often as he tried to convince himself and those around him that he was not a hugging person, he no longer seemed to mind receiving them from her, as few and far between as they were.

They stood for a while, just simply enjoying the moment while listening to the customers in the tavern continue to laugh and sing songs of better times. Nearby she heard the distinctly recognizable sound of a horse nickering. Her eyes searched for the animal, finding it at the end of the path attached to a stopped carriage. Atop the carriage sat its coachman cloaked in black, the hood over his face concealed his identity from within. He remained stationary as if waiting for someone. An uneasy feeling came over her as the hooded man slowly turned his head towards her to stare her down from beneath the darkness of his cloak. Though she couldn't see his face, something about him frightened her. Before she could determine the cause, she suddenly felt a sharp pain rising up from within her womb. She screamed out in agony and clutched her middle as she began to fall.

"Clara!" the Doctor shouted, scrambling to catch her. She fell to her knees holding her stomach and rocking herself back and forth as the unbearable pain intensified. He dropped beside her, his hearts raced with concern. "Clara! Are you alright?! What's wrong!" He placed his hands on her waist to steady her then brought a hand around to her abdomen, frantically searching for the cause of her pain. "Are you going into labour?" He began to panic.

"No! It's too soon! Something is wrong!" She continued to yell out in pain as tears made their way down her face.

Thinking quickly, he pulled out his sonic-screwdriver and scanned her body. He could feel the blood drain from his face as the readings fluctuated in his mind. "Clara, the baby is in distress," he told her, trying to remain calm. "We need to get both of you out of here. We have to get back to the TARDIS immediately." She nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. Placing an arm around her waist, he led her towards the carriage. As they approached the hooded man, she stopped in her tracks. His dark hidden gaze stared down at the pair.

"Wait, Doctor," she pleaded, her body trembling. "Not the carriage."

"Clara, don't be ridiculous," he argued, trying to lead her towards the door. "The TARDIS might as well be an eternity from here, we'll never make it like this." Hesitating at first, she nodded and allowed him to open the door and help her inside. "Fleet Street, quick as you can!" he ordered the man. The hooded man nodded silently. The Doctor climbed into the carriage and shut the door. He removed his hat and situated himself next to his frightened companion. The sound of reins slapping against the backside of the horse was heard and the carriage began to move. He took her hand in his and protectively pressed the other over their child hoping his touch would provide his friend with some comfort. His eyes were wide with worry, his face devoid of colour. The panic inside him was rising as the fear of losing them began to settle in his mind.

Having never seen him in such a state, she reached out towards him and placed her hand upon his cheek. "She's going to be alright," she comforted him, lightly stroking his face and running her fingers through his grey-coloured hair. "We're going to be just fine, don't you worry." She leaned over and softly kissed his cheek, bringing her arms around him in a loving embrace.

He held her tightly and fought back his fearful tears as he ran a trembling hand through her hair. He tried to keep himself calm as he took in her scent. The love he had for her and their child, the love he swore to push away to remain unattached, was intensifying with every breath she took. "This was a mistake," he confessed, holding her close, "I should never have brought you here. If anything happens to either of you, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

She leaned away to see his saddened expression hidden in shame and pulled his face to meet her eyes. "No, don't you do that. Don't you dare blame yourself. This is not your fault. If it was going to happen anywhere, I'm glad it was with you-" She winced as the pain returned to her.

He gently leaned her back against the seat and rubbed the side of her abdomen in an attempt to help relieve her of her discomfort. He could feel a faint fluttering within her for the first time, a movement so emotional for him he should have felt overjoyed. But not now, not at the cost of his companion's suffering. After a moment, she let out a sigh of relief as the pain finally began to subside. "Better?" He continued to feel around for signs that the child was still alive.

She nodded and began to relax as he soothed her. "What was she like, the other me?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the pain.

He looked up at her and smiled as he recalled the memory of the companion that could have been. "Oh, she was very clever, and brave, and beautiful. Just like you."

"We're doing charm now?" she teased.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She returned the smile and closed her eyes, concentrating on positive thoughts to avoid thinking about what could be happening inside of her. Trying to rid her mind of worry, she allowed the carriage to rock her in the seat. Noticing something strange, she opened her eyes again. "Is it just me, or have we picked up speed?" She hoped she was just being delirious from the pain.

The Doctor paused to feel the vibrations of the carriage as it quickly headed down the unpaved road. He then bolted to the window and peered outside. "Yes, we have. And we're going in the wrong direction." He pounded on the roof of the carriage to gain the coachman's attention, "You up there! Stop this carriage immediately!" Silence came from above followed by the door locks being set electronically. He grabbed the handle and attempted to open the door. It wouldn't budge. "But, that's not possible!"

"Doctor?"

Ignoring her for the moment, he continued to pound on the roof. "Where are you taking us?" he shouted towards the coachman. "I demand you let us out! My friend needs immediate medical attention!" The carriage continued to gain in speed as they headed farther away from the TARDIS. He pulled out his sonic-screwdriver and pointed it towards the lock. Sparks began to fly from the handle and the door unlocked itself. He pushed open the door and peered down at the road flying by below them. "We have to jump," he announced, turning back to her.

"You can't be serious," she uttered in shock.

His eyes returned to her middle, reminding himself of their precarious situation. "Right, never mind. Forget I said anything." He grabbed ahold of the roof and pulled himself halfway out of the carriage, his body partly dangling over the side.

"Doctor! What are you doing!" she called out.

"Hello there!" he addressed the back of the coachman. "Excuse me, but I believe Fleet Street is back that way." The hooded figure slowly turned his head around towards the old man. The Doctor caught a glimpse of the inside of the man's hood. A black mask covered his face, his eyes were hidden behind shaded glass. In the distance, he could see they were rapidly approaching an old run-down abandoned building. A decommissioned factory or mill perhaps. The coachman continued to silently stare down his passenger. "Right then!" the Doctor conceded before retreating back into the carriage and shutting the door.

"Doctor, what's happening? Where is he taking us?" she demanded, fearing for what was to become of them.

"Listen, Clara," he pleaded, placing his hands on her shoulders, "whatever happens, I will protect you. I'll find us a way out of this, I promise." Before she could reply, they heard the sound of the horse's cries as the carriage began to reduce its pace. They glanced out the window as the building came into view. As the carriage came to a stop near the entrance, they noticed two armed soldiers wearing uniforms appropriate to their century appear from the darkness and approach. Their dated rifles were drawn and pointed towards them. They heard the thudded sound of the coachman dropping from his seat to the ground, his footsteps coming around the side of the carriage to stand between his soldiers. Getting a better look at their kidnapper, they could see several symbols aligned on his chest, a row of ammunition was wrapped around his torso.

"Who is he?" she whispered.

"Guessing?"

"Go on, let's have it then."

"Judging by the decorations and overall wear of his uniform, possibly, bounty hunter?"

"Great! Leave it to me to travel around with you when there's a price on your head!"

One of the soldiers opened the door while the other's weapon remained trained on the passengers. He motioned for them to step out. The Doctor exited first then reached inside and took Clara's hand to safely help her out. "Are we late for the party?" he addressed the armed men.

"Bring them," the coachman commanded in a deeply distorted androdic voice. He then turned around and headed for the building while his soldiers positioned themselves behind the pair and pushed them forward. Clara stumbled from the force, taking hold of the Doctor's arm to catch herself from falling.

"You're taking an old man and a pregnant woman hostage, is that really necessary?" he called back to the soldier as they were led forward. As they came closer to the building, they felt themselves walking through a type of distortion field which changed the appearance of the abandoned building into a perfectly well-maintained structure shielded within it. "Perception filter, interesting. I bet you don't get a lot of salesmen around here." He turned towards the soldiers whose appearance had also adapted to the filter, revealing themselves as cybernetic beings armed with alien-enhanced weapons. The large doors opened as they approached then closed behind them.

He observed the darkened room they now found themselves in. Crates had been stacked on top of each other lining each wall. A few armed robotic guards of the same make and model were meticulously sorting the items inside of an unsealed crate and inputting their data into a mobile server pad. His keen eyes spotted some of the items being stored and ready to be packaged ranging from jewellery to paintings, statues to expensive furnishings. From next to him he could hear the heavy controlled breathing of his companion attempting to soothe her mind from her pain.

"Are you okay?" he whispered to her.

"Keep moving!" the soldier behind them ordered and pushed them forward.

"Ask me again when you've gotten us out of here," she whispered back through gritted teeth.

They were led into the next part of the building, a long hallway with a singular closed door guarded by two additional androids. As the hooded coachman drew near, a guard opened the door allowing the five of them inside and shutting it behind them. The Doctor quickly analysed their surroundings. The room had all the makings of a battle-room. The walls were lined with coordinates to planets and stars around several solar systems. A map of numerous bases of operations could be seen. Lists of heisted items were scattered across a large table along with weapon schematics. A case of perception filter badges, which he assumed was how the soldiers appeared human outside of the field, rested on the table. There was a secondary closed door which appeared to lead towards an access point directly to the factory's assembly floor as well as the rest of the building. At the far end of the room stood the coachman. His hands were clasped behind his back as he faced a large glass viewing window overlooking the floor below them.

"You have no idea how many years I've waited to finally meet you, Doctor," the hooded man spoke, his robotic voice still disguised behind his mask.

"Ah, well, you could have just phoned. I'm sure I could have jotted you down somewhere," the Doctor replied.

The coachman snickered from under his hood, "Such a wonderful defence mechanism, humour. She said you'd be funny."

"Who did? How do you know me?"

"There's not a star in the universe safe from the whispered mentions of your name."

"How did you know I was going to be here?"

The masked man turned around at the question, "The answer to that will be revealed in due time, my friend."

"What do you want from me?"

The coachman turned his masked face towards Clara. "Bring me the companion," he ordered. The soldier grabbed Clara's arm and pulled her away as she struggled to break free of his grasp.

"No! Wait! If it's me you want, take me!" the Doctor objected before the second soldier hit him in the stomach with the end of his weapon. He gasped as the air was forced from his lungs.

"Doctor! Let go of me!" she screamed towards the soldier as she was dragged to the hooded figure and forcefully thrown at his feet.

The coachman looked down at the fallen woman clutching her belly and wincing in pain then back to his soldier. He shook his head and tsk-tsked in disapproval. "Manners my friend, these are our guests. A true gentleman would never harm a lady," he claimed, pulling out a modified nineteenth-century pistol from his cloak, taking aim at his soldier and killing him instantly. His limp metal body collapsed to the floor as Clara screamed in terror. The coachman replaced his weapon beneath his cloak and turned his attention to her, "Apologies." He pulled out the chair next to him and extended a gloved hand towards her, motioning for her to take it. "If you please." She reluctantly accepted as the man helped her from the floor into the chair. The man slowly circled the frightened woman, staring down at her appearance and stopping next to her. He reached out and took her chin in his palm. "Such a pretty thing," he admired. She angrily pulled away from his grasp. A small quiet snicker escaped through his mask as he observed her fuller figure trying to hide beneath her dress. "I see you've been busy, Doctor. I didn't take you for a family man."

"Yes, well," he started, beginning to regain his breath, "there's a lot you don't know about me. We've only just been acquainted. Seems unfair. You know who I am, yet I don't know anything about you. To what name should I be addressing our most gracious host?" He tried to mask his concern over Clara's well-being as she held a hand to her stomach and continued to breathe heavily.

"Ah, yes. How very inconsiderate of me," the masked man replied. "I am known by many different names across the galaxy. My enemies refer to me as the Raven. Those who have been enslaved under my command have been called the Shade. I'll admit, those titles don't carry quite the same resonance throughout the stars as yours does, Doctor. However, titles aside, the one most dearest to me called me... Quynn."

"Funny things, names," the Doctor started. "I've known more species in the universe than you can even imagine. I've been to places you've only seen in your nightmares. Yet, in all that time travelling throughout time and space, I've never heard of you before."

"Perhaps your attention has been concentrated elsewhere," the man suggested, carefully running his fingers between the ruffles of Clara's blouse. "Tell me, Doctor. Do you know why I've brought you here?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he replied, holding down his temper.

The man turned back towards the large window and peered down below. The assembly floor was busy with movement. His robotic followers were preoccupied with their duties of uncrating and inspecting several different types of weapons. Soldiers were welding together parts of armour to each other while others were engraving the symbol of a red raven to the upgraded breastplates. "I built this army and everything you see from the ground up. Although, I didn't do it alone. I had help along the way. Some may call it my legacy, but I see it as an opportunity."

"An opportunity to do what, exactly?" Glancing to Clara, he watched as she slowly brought her hand to the table next to her while the man's back was turned and quietly grabbed a sharp cylindrical object, a pen of sorts perhaps. He glared at her, his eyes wide with fear as if to say, _"_ _ _Don't you dare! You're going to get yourself killed!"__ Keeping her eyes focused on the Doctor, she tucked the object into the sleeve of her coat.

"The universe can be so unforgiving. Out there, the rules we set for ourselves don't apply. A dying star can pull entire worlds into its destruction, destroying millions of lives and bringing extinction to an entire species. Such power. Everything you've ever cared about, everything you've tried so hard to protect could be gone in an instant. The universe doesn't abide by the concepts of good and evil. It doesn't care about lives being saved or lost. You of all people should understand that, Doctor." The man then turned around to face him. "But what if you could prevent the inevitable? What if you could save billions of lives from war and genocide, protect them from collapsing stars and expanding suns? What if you had the power to choose who lives and who dies."

"I'd say you were describing the powers of a God."

"Gods are nothing but myths and legends, stories devised to frighten people into submission. I'm speaking of __real__ power." The man returned to Clara's side. "I've seen countless worlds brought to their knees by superior races hell-bent on conquest. I've watched one planet after another fall victim to their own planet's destruction. You might be surprised to know how much a person would be willing to give up, to trade away for their own life or the lives of those they treasured most if they knew you had the power to save them." The Doctor's eyes conveyed a deep understanding of the truth behind his words. "And if you were to offer them a choice, to swear their undying allegiance to you or suffer their inevitable fate, which do you think they would choose?"

"Aren't you the mighty hero," the Doctor's sarcasm took form. "Saving innocent people from their doom, and in return, you offer them an eternity of slavery. These people, these followers of yours are nothing but the spoils of war. Had they any idea what was waiting for them at the cost of your protection, I think they'd rather take their chances."

The man snickered, "I would have thought you'd be on my side, Doctor. Isn't that what you do, what you are known for? Saving lives?"

"Not at the cost of their own free will." His temper was rising. "Have you thought about what the consequences of saving these people, let alone an entire species, could do to the fabrics of time? Those billions of lives you are sparing from their fate could create a ripple throughout the universe causing it to completely collapse on itself. All of life as we know it could cease to exist. If I could save every single person that was marked for death, be able to alter every fixed point in time with no repercussions, don't you think I would?"

"So you would have them all die then?" asked the masked man with a hint of curiosity.

The Doctor glanced at Clara, hesitantly thinking about his answer as the faces of those he let perish or risk tearing the universe apart flashed into his mind. "Yes," he replied, feeling a sense of shame in his answer.

"My my, how intriguing. It would appear there's a more monstrous side hiding inside of you after all, Doctor. I dread to imagine what would become of those in your path if it was ever fully unleashed." The man looked down at Clara, observing her terrified expression at his closeness. Her breathing had deepened, a bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face. Without warning, he forcefully grabbed her wrist and twisted it up towards him causing her to scream out in pain. The Doctor felt himself fall forward to rush to her side but was held back by the remaining soldier. The masked man's other hand gently reached into her coat sleeve and pulled the sharpened object hidden from within, then released his grasp on her. She cradled her wounded wrist as angered tears fell from her face. The man stepped in front of her and glared down at her shaken form. "Your companion seems to lack a few crucial lessons in manners. How disappointing. I just may have to teach her myself, although my ways have been known to be a little more... disciplined." He raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. She cried out and held her cheek as blood formed at the corner of her mouth.

"Stop this!" the Doctor shouted with objection, trying to fight the soldier's hold on him. "Where is your honour? What happened to a gentleman never harming a lady?"

The man spun around to face him, returning his hands behind his back. "Leave us," he ordered the remaining soldier still clinging to the Doctor's arms.

"Sir," the soldier obeyed with a nod. He released his grasp and exited the room, shutting the door closed behind him. The Doctor and Clara found themselves alone in the room with the man, neither one of them making any sudden movements to avoid the fate of the dead soldier still sprawled out on the floor. Once it was decidedly safe, the man reached his hands up to his hood and slowly pulled it back to fully expose his darkened mask. He released the two clips at the back holding the mask around his face and carefully removed it from where it once rested. The Doctor was suddenly hit with a wave of telepathic abilities emanating from the newly unmasked figure. To his utter surprise, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw standing before him; a woman.

"At last we finally meet face to face, Doctor," said Quynn, setting her mask down on the table beside her. Although her voice was feminine in nature, it had an unforgiving harshness to it that seemed disturbing. Yet something about it was so very familiar to him, a voice he recognized but couldn't quite place.

The Doctor stared in disbelief at the recognizable features of the woman in front of him. His mind filtered through the many faces of his past trying to determine where he had seen her before. And then the realization hit him like a slap to the face as his memories became more clear. Missy's assistant. The young woman holding the Comasphere back on Prima Nova, it was her. Aside from a few new scars on her face, possibly obtained in battle over time, the woman looked almost exactly as he had remembered her that night. "You!" he exclaimed in shock, now beginning to piece together the details unravelling before him. "Of course! It all makes perfect sense, why didn't I see it before?! The crates, the ones containing all the artefacts. You've been heisting them from locations spread throughout the universe, using the Persuaders to force people of power to trade their weapons to upgrade your armies without them even realizing what they were doing." He observed Quynn's impressed reaction which further confirmed his accusations. His mind began to connect all his thoughts together. "It was __you__ who called the TARDIS emergency line, I recognize your voice! But how is that even possible?! The events of the auction won't be taking place until centuries from now. You claimed to have been waiting for me all this time, yet you've barely aged a single day since I saw you last."

"It's true. I've been waiting for you longer than I can even remember, and longer still to trace you to this exact point in time. And now, here we are."

"Who are you, really? What does any of this have to do with me?"

Quynn smirked at the old man's humorous ignorance. "Can you hear it, Doctor? The ringing in your ears? The link to your mind from someone like yourself calling out to you? Can you feel the electricity within your fingertips?"

"Yes," he answered, questioning everything the young woman seemed to know about him. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Because, I can feel it too," she confessed, tracing her fingers along the edge of her mask. "I've encountered countless species with the ability to telepathically link to one another. But only one I know of with the capability to be the most powerful race in the universe. The great Time Lords." The old man's hearts dropped at the sound of the name. "Pity there's so few of us left."

The Doctor continued to stare at the woman in disbelief, unable to find any truth in her words. "That's not possible. The Time Lords are gone, stuck in a pocket dimension never to return. I should know, I put them there. Whatever __you__ are is something... else. Which brings me to my next question, the one you haven't answered yet. Why did you bring me here?"

"I was sent here with a message for you." A menacing smile appeared on her face. She walked over to the table and pressed her hand upon the top until a view-screen lit up on its surface. She typed a few commands into its interface then removed her glove and pressed her thumb down to scan her print for recognition. A panel slid open next to the screen. She reached in and pulled out a small wooden box from inside, then set it on the table and slid the box towards him.

"What is it?" His brow raised with curiosity.

"A gift," she replied, maintaining her position behind the table.

The Doctor hesitantly approached the object, keeping a watchful eye on Clara who seemed to have recovered somewhat from her pains. Returning his attention to Quynn, he slowly picked up the small box and opened it to examine its contents. Inside was a lady's brooch depicting the profile of the Roman Goddess Flora. Though many women of the Victorian era could be seen wearing a very similar piece, this one in particular was made of a rare type of element known as dark star alloy. When crafted correctly, it was capable of piercing through even the strongest of metals. A dreaded feeling began to rise inside of him as he realized the piece he held was one he knew very well, the very same one that used to belong to him before he gave it to someone he thought he could trust. Someone he knew would not have parted with it so easily without good reason. So many thoughts began to flood his mind at the same time. "Where did you get this?!" he demanded. Quynn remained silent at his question, grinning to herself as she watched him become more aggressive with each second that passed. "The woman you spoke of before, the one who told you I was funny, who is she?!" Quynn's infuriating silence was even more of a sign his worst fears were validating themselves. "All this talk of doomed planets and enslaved armies, waiting centuries for the chance to bring me here just to give me a message, and now suddenly you have nothing to say." He began to pace rapidly as he tried to gather his thoughts, each one entering his mind caused his fear and anger to rise within him. "You said the one dearest to you called you Quynn." He approached her as closely as he dared to go, his concern for their safety becoming second to his overwhelming desire for the truth. "Was it she who sent you here to find me? Is she the one who gave you this?" He held up the brooch in front of him.

"I suspect you already know the answer to that, Doctor." She could feel his gaze burning fiercely into her eyes as he awaited her answer. "After all you've been through thus far, after everything we've learned about each other, knowing all that has been and could be accomplished with you by my side, does it really matter who sent me here?"

"Believe me, it matters," he assured her, continuing to hold the piece in front of him. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

"It's nothing more than a family heirloom, an offering to persuade you to view things in a different light as we do. I'll admit, I had my doubts that a gesture so small would have any effect on the outcome of you joining us. However, seeing you this disordered over a piece of jewellery has been quite entertaining, if not a bit overly dramatic."

"A family heirloom you say, how interesting," he began, regaining himself. "As in having been passed down through generations. From grandparent to their future descendants. From a parent to a child. Or, perhaps in this case, from a mother to her daughter."

"I am aware of the concept, Doctor."

"Are you?" he raised his brow. "Tell me then. After all this time you've been waiting for me, spending countless years keeping this safe until the moment I was standing right here, have you ever asked yourself why it was saved for __me__? Surely something as valuable as this ought to have been passed down to its next rightful heir?"

"It is not my position to question the orders in which I am given, only to see them out in the manner of which they are received."

The Doctor could sense a hint of frustration and possibly a slight resentfulness emanating from within her. He felt his strategy of disarming her with his words seemed to be proving effective. "Ah, I understand now. You're merely a pawn in all of this, just a piece to be played. The messenger who doesn't question anything, who does exactly as she's told!"

Quynn smirked at the old man's words. Cupping her hands behind her, she slowly turned her back to him and made her way to Clara's side, keeping his companion between them. "I know what you're doing, Doctor, and it won't work on me. When it comes to playing mind games, I was trained by the very best. I know every trick in the book there is. So, what do you say we change the rules of the game? Up the stakes a bit, shall we?" she insisted, removing her pistol from its holster and pointing the barrel at his companion's head. Clara's eyes went wide with fear, her body frozen in place as frightened tears streamed down her face. The Doctor retained his calm demeanour, unwilling to show any signs of weakness that could be used against him. "I can make this as simple or as difficult as it needs to be," she continued. "My orders are fairly straightforward. I can offer you a choice. Either you can come with me willingly and I spare their lives, or I can shoot them now and force you to come with me anyway."

"Well yes, you __could__ shoot them," he started.

"You better be joking, Doctor," Clara warned, flashing him a heated glance. "Surely you're joking, yeah?" Quynn found herself surprised at his response yet maintained her position.

"However," he continued as he looked to Clara, spending all of his energy on fighting to keep his emotions under control. His eyes stared into hers apologetically for what was to come, for what he knew he had to do to save them. "If you kill them, you'll be killing yourself," he affirmed with a heavy sigh.

"Hang on, what?" Clara uttered alarmingly. "Doctor, what are you talking about?!"

"She's our daughter, Clara," he answered. Somehow the thought of his own words brought a smile to his face despite their current situation.

"I don't understand," she admitted as a mix of confusion and dread rested upon her face.

The brief moment between them was interrupted by the sound of Quynn's unexpected hysterical laughter filling the small room. "I apologize," she stated, lowering her weapon back down to her side. She continued to laugh, wiping a tear from her eye as she attempted to compose herself. "I have to admit, I was not expecting that from you, Doctor. If you really thought you'd be so bold as to try and make a fool out of me, I'm quite certain you've made a great miscalculation of character. I should be offended, however, it doesn't surprise me that you'd be willing to say anything to protect the mother of your child."

"I'm afraid it's true. Every word of it."

"Seriously, Doctor. What are you talking about?!" Clara repeated, this time with urgency.

"I'm also curious to see how far you're willing to go with this charade," Quynn added. "I trust you've spent this time devising an explanation to accompany your absurd accusations. Luckily for you, I've all the time in the universe to be entertained by any reliable evidence you have to offer."

"All the evidence you'll ever need is right here." He placed the brooch on the table in front of him.

"I'm afraid it's going to take a little more than a bit of jewellery to convince me. I'll give you another chance before I come to the conclusion that you're merely trying to test my patience and I decide to kill all three of you instead."

"I expected as much." He leaned against the table and crossed his arms. "The reason the brooch was to be delivered to me is that it would never have belonged to you in the first place, it was never intended for you. You were sent here with a message, that much is certain. But you didn't need to spend all this time waiting for me to show up just to give me a bit of boxed jewellery. This was never about the gift. This was never about wanting me to join you while you circumvented the universe looking for worlds to save and people to enslave into your armies. I'll admit, you had me believing you for a moment. That maybe you did, in fact, hold the answer to cheating all the laws of the universe without consequence that I could never quite reach. I thought that maybe if I had agreed to come with you I could somehow convince you that saving people is its own reward. But then you showed me this," he stared at the brooch on the table, "and suddenly everything became so very clear." He gently picked up the piece and began to turn it around in his hands as if trying to read all of its dark secrets. "You see, the woman who sent you here, the one you work for, I know her very well. You might even say we were good friends once. I was the one who gave this to her back on Gallifrey, so many years ago. It was a gift for her daughter, her __real__ daughter. I don't expect she's ever really forgiven me for what happened to her, for what I did, for what I __had__ to do. And for that, I'll always have my regrets." He slowly replaced the piece on the table and stood to face the woman eye to eye. "Missy is not your mother, Quynn. Whatever she's told you about me, whatever reason she had you bring us to Prima Nova, it was all a lie devised to manipulate you into taking her revenge out on me. She didn't send you here with a message for me to join you. You, my dear, __are__ the message." The room went quiet as his eyes traced back and forth between the startled faces of the women in the room.

"Tell me, Doctor. Why exactly should I believe any of this?" Quynn asked the old man, trying to fill in the empty spaces in his story with her own thoughts.

"Because it's the truth. Because," he sighed, "I'm the one to blame. I'm the reason for all of this!" He felt the familiar sense of anger rising from within him once again.

"Doctor, what are you saying?" Clara tried to keep up with all that had been revealed thus far.

The Doctor placed his face in his hands and tried to come to terms with what he knew he must confess. The rage was building inside of him, it took all of his strength not to explode with emotion. "Oh Clara, Clara, Clara." He ran his hands down his face in frustration and looked her deeply in the eyes. "I'm so sorry, Clara."

"Doctor?" she called. The uncertainty she felt towards his words had turned to fear over the unmistakable look of guilt consuming his expression. "What have you done?"

"What I had to do." The look of shame and sorrow passed over his face. "I made a deal with Missy," he confessed as another heavy sigh passed his lips. "I agreed to trade our child away to her in exchange for your life." He could only describe the emotions running over his companion's face as that of shock and hatred.

"You didn't. Tell me you didn't, Doctor," she asserted, making sure each word she spoke was clearly understood by him.

"It was the only way to save you. She was going to kill you both if I hadn't agreed. I've spent the last few months trying to find a way out of our deal hoping to buy us some time before she would eventually come for our child." He glanced at his daughter standing behind the woman still carrying her. "And it would appear as though I will have been unsuccessful." Clara leaned back in her chair, her mouth agape as his words encompassed every part of her mind.

"I'm quite impressed," Quynn interjected. "You've really thought this all out, haven't you? One day they may end up writing such magnificent stories based on your tall tales of woe. But until then, I think I've heard quite enough fiction for one evening," she declared, slowly running her fingers through Clara's hair as if taking one last look at her. "What a shame, she was such a pretty thing. Anything else you'd like to tell your companion before I kill her?" She returned her pistol to the back of Clara's head and cocked it. Clara closed her eyes, accepting her fate.

"If you kill her none of this will have ever existed." His concern for Clara's well-being was rapidly growing as he felt he was losing control of the situation. "All that you have worked for, all the planets and people you have saved, all that you have accomplished will be erased from time itself. Don't you see? Your entire existence is a paradox. If you kill Clara, you'd never have brought us to Prima Nova, you'd never have been conceived and therefore would never have been born. Time will have rewritten itself to its last fixed point before any of this ever started. Is that really a risk you'd be willing to take? I'm offering you the chance to start a new life, the life you should have had, with us. Please, don't do this."

Quynn stayed silent for a moment as if considering the Doctor's proposal carefully. "Even if what you say is true, and believe me I __will__ discover the truth, I see no reason to assume that killing you instead would have any effect on the outcome of what has already taken place." A small smile formed on her face as she changed her target from Clara and took aim at the centre of his chest.

"NO!" Clara screamed, falling forward in her chair.

"No, Clara!" He held up his hand as a peaceful gesture to stop her from standing. "It's okay. All of this was my fault. If it hadn't been for me, none of this would've ever happened. I put you and our child in danger and I'll never be able to forgive myself for that. I deserve whatever is coming to me. I've lived for far too long. This is right."

"No, Doctor! Please!" she cried. "I can't do this without you."

"It'll be okay, Clara." He wanted to comfort her, to hold her in his arms fearing this would be the last time he'd ever get the chance to do so. They had been through so much together, her life force was deeply entwined in his own. She deserved better than what he'd done to her. He hated goodbyes just as much as he hated endings, no matter their nature. "I know you're going to be a wonderful mother. Take good care of her for me, Clara."

"Goodbye, Doctor," Quynn remarked, placing her finger on the trigger. He closed his eyes and awaited the darkness coming for him.

"NO!" Clara screamed again. Without even realizing what she was doing, she flung herself back into her seat with brute force. Using her legs as propulsion, she sent herself and the chair flying backwards straight into Quynn. Quynn cried out from the blow, her shot missed the Doctor by inches as she was nearly knocked over. Clara fell from her chair to the floor landing on her side next to the body of the deceased soldier. Without delay, she grabbed the weapon from his dead grasp and flipped around to face her daughter. Quynn, having recovered from the shock of Clara's unexpected attack, turned her weapon towards her mother to take aim.

"Clara, NO!" she heard the Doctor shout as she pressed down on the trigger and fired off a shot directly into Quynn's chest. The blast from the rifle sent her flying backwards and smashing through the glass window. She let out a scream as her body was flung like a projectile out of the room and down to the assembly floor far below them. A loud crash was heard accompanied by the startled voices of the soldiers below.

The Doctor rushed to where the window once was and peered down. He could see Quynn's limp lifeless form sprawled out on the ground. Her body had fallen upon several stacked crates, obliterating them into pieces. Several armed guards rushed to the scene. They stood over the fallen body of their commander and glanced upwards in the direction of where she had fallen from, meeting the shocked face of the man looking down at them. At once they began to assemble themselves and exit the floor, their weapons drawn and ready for combat. Moments later, an alarm was heard broadcasting throughout the building. "I think we've outstayed our welcome," he concluded, turning to his companion who was frozen in shock. Thinking quickly, he rushed to the door they had entered through and pulled out his sonic-screwdriver, aiming it towards the lock. The locked clicked and sealed. As the guards from the outside began to pound on the door, he rushed back over to Clara and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Clara," he addressed her, trying to break her from her petrified state.

"I shot her." Her eyes were wide and full of tears.

"Clara, we need to leave." He tried to pull her from the floor.

"I shot her, Doctor," she sobbed, placing her face in her hands.

"Yes, I know. But right now I need you to get up for me. That door won't hold much longer." He stood and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her to a standing position. Once he felt she was able to stand on her own, he rushed around the room to collect what he needed for their escape. He ran to the table and opened the case of perception filter badges. He took out two of them then returned to where he had left her. Using his screwdriver, he initiated a complete scan of the deceased soldier's body.

"Is she dead?" Clara finally managed to speak. She looked as white as a sheet, her eyes remained wide as fresh tears ran down her cheek. He raised his brow at the question and continued his work on the badges, placing his screwdriver on the small devices to update their data. "Doctor? Please, tell me," she pleaded.

"Here," he handed her one of the badges, "put this on. I've re-calibrated its internal circuitry and reversed its projection system to mimic the revised primary data model."

She stared at him as if he had just spoken to her in fluent Gallifreyan, "Was I supposed to understand any of that?"

He sighed, "If we want to get out of here alive, we can't just walk out of here appearing human. If I've done my calculations correctly, these perception badges should be able to project the most recent image uploaded into its database." He placed the badge on his lapel and activated it which replaced his furrowed grey-haired form into an exact replica of the soldier. He helped to place hers on and activated it, changing her appearance from a Victorian woman into an armoured android.

She raised her hands and turned them over to observe their cybernetic features, then peered down the rest of her body. Where there should have been a noticeable fullness extending from her middle, there was now an armoured metal plating. She attempted to hold back her grief and shock to focus on what she needed to do to in order to save herself and her child's life. All of the emotions flowing through her at that moment were being silenced by her greater need to survive. "Are you sure about this?"

"About eighty-seven percent sure."

"Fair enough."

They heard a loud thud on the door as the soldiers attempted to break it down. "Time to go," he insisted, turning to the secondary door. "And bring that," he gestured towards the weapon she had used on Quynn, "we just may need it after all." The alarm continued to sound as he headed to the secondary door and slowly cracked it open, peering outside for any sign of soldiers approaching. Once it was safe, he opened the door to better observe the undiscovered area. The long darkened corridor was vacant of any lifeforms to be concerned about for the moment. He motioned for her to step through then used his screwdriver on the door, locking it from the outside. Taking her hand, he led her down the corridor to its end and turned the corner. As they came around the bend, he heard the sound of soldiers approaching as they made their way down the adjacent pathway. Thinking quickly, he yanked her back behind the wall and wrapped his arm around her front to steady her. She yelped in pain and clutched her middle still hiding beneath her armoured disguise. He quickly covered her mouth with his free hand and held her steady in his grasp attempting to keep her as silent as possible. She breathed deeply through her nose and tried to concentrate on anything but her pain. Once the soldiers had passed, he whispered into her ear.

"We'll wait here. Once it's safe we're going to head for the exterior access hatch. We may have to reach it quickly before we're spotted and our disguises are uncovered. Can you make it?" The adrenaline pumped heavily through his veins as he spoke. She nodded, her mouth still covered by his hand. From down the corridor, they heard the sound of pounding coming from the door behind them. The soldiers had made it past the first barrier he had created for them. "Change of plans!" he blurted aloud, releasing his grasp on her. Taking her hand, he hurried to lead her through the corridor into the adjacent one and searched for anything remotely resembling an exit of any kind. Spotting a singular door at the far end of the hall, they picked up their pace and headed towards it, pushing it open and bursting their way through. They stopped dead in their tracks, realizing they had found themselves in a loading dock. Several groups of soldiers were arming themselves while others were unloading crates of weaponry from the back of the large vehicles parked within.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this doesn't look like an exterior access hatch to me!" she whispered irritably through her teeth.

"Yes, well, next time I'll be sure to stop and ask for directions before we begin running for our lives!" he snapped back. "Just remain calm and do exactly as I do." He headed down the stairs to the dock floor with Clara following closely behind. Spotting the exit, he calmly led them passed the soldiers towards it.

"You there!" one of the higher ranking officers shouted at them. They froze and turned their attention towards the voice. "Where do you think you two are going?"

"Uh..." the Doctor started, his brain working overtime to come up with a believable scenario. "Perimeter reinforcement! They needed more eyes on the outside keeping a lookout for the two escaped human prisoners, sir!" He felt ridiculous having to recite titles to a robot even if it was a matter of life and death.

The Lieutenant raised what could only be assumed was an eyebrow, taking notice of the Doctor's defencelessness. "Where is your weapon, soldier?"

"Um... it had a slight malfunction, I'm afraid," he lied. Clara groaned in the back of her throat as she was hit with another wave of pain. He could feel himself beginning to panic.

"What's wrong with him?" asked the Lieutenant.

"Oh, uh, the thought of humans running about disgusts him. Weak servomechanism system I'd say." He was thankful the perception filter was able to mask his obvious sweating.

The Lieutenant eyed the two strange infantrymen making the old man more nervous than he intended to be. After a moment, he removed the strap attached to his rifle off his shoulder and stuck the weapon in the arms of the Doctor. "Here, take this one. Make sure to perform a sweep of the entire perimeter wall. Call if you find anything. If they __have__ made it out, they won't last very long out there in this weather. And don't let me catch you without your weapon again. Is that understood, soldier?"

"Roger that," he nodded, keeping his hands from trembling. The Lieutenant departed from the pair and began assessing his other troops. The Doctor turned to Clara and cocked his head towards the exit. Making their way towards it, he opened the door to the outside. The cold raw air nipped them in the face as they headed away from the structure. The ground was now completely covered in snow. They approached a large gate used for transport vehicles on the side of the building.

"I can't believe that worked," she remarked, attempting to ignore her unsettling pain. They reached the gate to find it was locked, a chain was wrapped tightly around it. He pulled out his screwdriver and aimed it at the lock. It sparked and unlatched allowing them to push it open and escape from the grounds into the surrounding forest. Once outside the perimeter, the perception filter badges returned them to their original forms. The Doctor grabbed Clara's hand and hurried to lead her towards the TARDIS. She struggled to keep up, holding a hand under her middle for support. "I don't think I can make it," she admitted out of breath and fighting back her pain.

He stopped and turned to her, removing their weapons and dropping them in the snow. Taking a closer look at her, he could see her face was damp with sweat and flushed. He pressed his palm to her forehead, sensing the beginning of a fever. "Yes, you can," he insisted. He placed her arm around his shoulder and held her steady by her waist. "We're nearly there, the town is just ahead."

As they walked several paces through the darkened forest, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. "I think I need to rest."

"Clara, we need to keep moving. Once the soldiers figure out what has happened they'll be headed this way. We have to get to the TARDIS as quickly as we can."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one carting around an extra passenger!"

"Not at the moment, no. Would you like me to call us a carriage?" he asked, not even trying to hold back his smile. She was not amused.

"Carry on, soldier boy," she ordered, forcing herself to continue.

* * *

The walk through the forest and into the developing town felt like an eternity. The Doctor managed to maintain his grip on her the entire way as the familiar sight of the TARDIS came into view. At last, they made it to the blue box. Opening the door, he assisted her inside towards the nearest seat then returned to the entrance to close it. As he did, he heard the sound of an enormous explosion coming from far away in the direction of the factory they had just escaped from. Startled by the sound, he stepped outside to get a better look at the brilliant sight in the distance. The blast from the building arose far above the trees. But to his shock, it wasn't being caused by fire. An immense golden-yellow beam emitted from its location sending it soaring into the night's sky and outwards destroying everything in the vicinity around it. The blinding column of light penetrated the darkness which illuminated everything the area for miles in all directions. He shielded his eyes from its immaculate glow. The electricity he felt emanating from it could have powered an entire continent. Great fear tore through him. He knew there was only one thing that could have caused such an eruption; regeneration energy.

He quickly ran inside and shut the door, his hearts pounding in his chest. He pressed his forehead to the door to steady himself and take control over his emotions. The frightened feelings running through him were being fuelled by the knowledge that his daughter was still alive, which meant only one thing; they were in even greater danger. Once he had composed himself, he rushed to the console. Pushing buttons and pulling levers, he sent the time machine towards its instructed coordinates. The TARDIS bucked and whirred while her passengers held on to whatever was around them.

"Where are we going?" Clara managed to ask, her defeated form gripping herself to one of the few comfortable seats available. It took all of her remaining strength not to fall out of the chair as her fever began to worsen, draining the last bit of energy helping to keep her conscious.

"Somewhere safe," he replied, keeping an eye on the view-screen as he held onto the console. "We may need a place to hide for a while. I fear they've been tracking us for some time now." The sound of the ship's signature thudded landing was heard as the interior rocking ceased. "I've taken us to the Horsehead Nebula. Specifically, the Ood Sphere. Its inhabitants are all telepathically linked to each other by the hive mind. If we remain here, it's possible we can disguise ourselves under their telepathic field to camouflage whatever signal is transmitting from inside the TARDIS."

"How long do you plan on keeping us here?" she asked, attempting to sit up. Feeling the pain returning, she winced and placed her hand over the source of her discomfort.

He came to her side and knelt before her to rest a hand over hers. With the other, he placed it above her damp brow and concluded that her fever was worsening by the minute. "I'm not sure. But first things first, we need to find out what's really going on in there," he gestured to her belly and pulled out his screwdriver. He scanned her middle and brought the device into view to examine its findings, then returned to the view-screen to upload the data he had received. After a moment of staring at the readings being displayed upon the monitor, he ran a hand down his face in frustration.

"Doctor? What is it, what's wrong?" She became nervous at his less-than-satisfied reaction.

"There appears to be a tear in the uterine wall." His attempt to conceal his saddened expression offered little comfort to his companion. "A separation of tissue, right here," he pointed at the screen to a position just beside their growing child. He hung his head deep in terrified thought. The tearing had been severe. The scans showed signs of a vast amount of internal bleeding. Her increasing fever was even more of a confirmation that if they did not seek medical attention soon, he feared she would not be able to survive much longer.

"Is she going to be alright?" her voice trembled. His silence worried her even more. "Doctor, how bad is it?"

He turned around to face her. "I don't know," he lied. "There isn't enough information available on Time Lord and human pregnancies to know for certain."

"But it's been done before, yeah?" she asked, remaining hopeful.

He stared into her eyes knowing very well that it had. "Yes," he confirmed. "But not all are the same. There's no way of knowing how your body will react to this. Given enough stress, this pregnancy could be fatal to you and our child. I could lose you both." He hadn't realized how much the thought of losing them truly terrified him until he heard the words spoken aloud.

"So what do we do?" she inquired, pushing her fears aside. If she had learned anything in her time travelling with him, she knew wherever he was there would always be hope. He slowly approached and knelt before her once more. A heavy-hearted sigh escaped him as he placed his hands on either side of his child. He lowered his head and gently kissed the top of her belly. Closing his eyes, he carefully rested his forehead on her middle as if attempting to communicate with the small being living within her. Clara was conflicted by the feelings flowing through her at that moment. Though a part of her felt moved by his unexpected affections, a greater part of her was still angered and betrayed by his most recent confession of having promised their child away. She ran her fingers through his wavy hair in an effort to comfort him. It wasn't very often she was shown the sensitive side of this regeneration he had become. But at that moment, she knew how much this child meant to him no matter what his previous actions had proven otherwise. Having heard the stories of his past and the children he had once fathered and lost, this was the closest he had come to reliving that title since the day he had lost them all. "Is there nothing that can be done?" she asked, trying to fight back her tears.

He raised his head and met her sad eyes with his own. "There is one thing." Leaning away from her, he lowered his gaze to his hands. After only a moment, they began to glow an ambient golden-yellow.

"Don't you dare!" she commanded, knowing full well he was offering her more than just a part of himself, the essence that made him everything he was, it was a piece of his irreplaceable soul she would never be able to repay.

"What other choice do we have?" He stood and stepped away from her trying to keep himself calm. "What would you have me do, just stand around here waiting for one or both of you die? I'm sorry, Clara, but I can't-" he sighed, then returned his gaze to hers, "I __won't__ let that happen."

"We'll find another way. We always do."

"This isn't just another intergalactic space pickle we always seem to find ourselves in. This isn't about all the times we escaped near death and sat around the table having a good laugh about it. We are talking about your life and the life of our child. Unless we seek medical attention immediately, both of you will die." The words tore through him like a knife. It took everything in his power to remain strong for her as his world was crashing down around him.

"Then we find help. Surely someone out there can help us."

"And go where, exactly? Last time I checked, the list of available hospitals in the known universe housing a vast knowledge of Time Lord pregnancies seemed rather short." His sarcasm was getting the better of him. He sighed and brought himself back to the situation. "I've already caused enough damage. I've betrayed your trust, risked our friendship, put all of our lives in danger all because I thought I was doing the right thing. Please, just let me do this for you. Allow me this one thing. A chance to set things right." His eyes begged for her to reconsider.

She felt herself struggling to keep herself awake, her eyes strained to focus on the old man's sorrowed face. She could feel her body starting to fail, her vision beginning to fade. The disheartening realization had finally hit her that her time was running out more quickly than either of them ever fathomed. She feared that even if they somehow managed to find help they would be too late. "Okay," she nodded after carefully considering her limited options.

He approached and knelt in front of her a final time. Bringing his hands in front of him, they began to glow once more. "Are you sure?"

"As I can be," she answered weakly, then raised her brow. "Space pickle?"

"Shut up." He pressed his hands on her belly and closed his eyes, concentrating all of his energy on healing the tear. Clara was losing the fight for consciousness. She felt her heavy eyelids close and her head drift off to the side as he worked to mend her internal wounds. "Stay with me, Clara!" he shouted, trying to keep her awake and alert. Her hands slid off her body and landed limply to her sides as she slipped out of reality. As the darkness took over, she could barely hear the faint cries of the Doctor frantically calling out her name.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

Works Cited

"The Caretaker." _Doctor Who_ , written by Gareth Roberts and Steven Moffat, directed by Paul Murphy, season 8, episode 6, BBC One, 27 September 2014.

"The Snowmen." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Saul Metzstein, season 7, special 11, BBC One, 25 December 2012.

"The Time of the Doctor." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Jamie Payne, season 7, episode 7, BBC One, 25 December 2013.

"Asylum of the Daleks." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Nick Hurran, season 7, episode 1, BBC One, 12 September 2012.

"The Name of the Doctor." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Saul Metzstein, season 7, special 13, BBC One, 18 May 2013.

"The Witch's Familiar." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Hettie MacDonald, season 9, episode 2, BBC One, 26 September 2015.

"Planet of the Ood." _Doctor Who_ , written by Keith Temple, directed by Graeme Harper, season 4, episode 3, BBC One, 19 April 2008.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 _ _The embers burned bright as they devoured the remaining fragments of the once standing structure, spreading like a virus within the ruins of what once was. A blanket of ash filtered through the air like fog as the flames began to subside amongst the wreckage of the large factory. The surrounding scorched earth was littered with the debris of mangled limbs torn from their inhuman frames.__ _  
_

 _ _From within the settling dust, a figure parted its way through the dense smoke, rising from the ashes like a phoenix. Its flesh, barren of garments and unscathed by the devastation surrounding it, strode through the fiery path like an indestructible army leaving the remains of the structure behind it. As the figure drew farther from the heated source, its skin was welcomed by the icy chill of the night's most recently departed snowfall. Gazing towards the clear night's sky, the moonlight pierced through the darkness to provide the only source of light for miles in any direction. Its brilliant beams shined brightly over every reflective surface it could inhabit. The being turned its head towards a glistening object buried halfway under the fresh powder. It approached with curiosity, slowly reaching down to spare it from its inevitable fate. As it brought the object closer for inspection, the powdered snow fell off its surface to reveal a familiar sight; a darkened mask. It's scorched outer layers had retained most of its original integrity, the shaded glass still intact. The being ran its fingers gently over its recognizable features. Bringing the mask to its face, it glared at the new reflection on its surface.__ _  
_

 _ _Her red hair burned brighter than the flames she had resurrected from. Her eyes, once cold and calculated, were now consumed with vengeance and hatred. The scars of war she once wore proudly like a badge of conquest had vanished. Her once youthful features had been upgraded to a level of maturity matching her experience and wisdom.__ _  
_

 _ _As Quynn took in every detail of her new form, a disturbing presence could be felt from just behind her as if it had been watching her, waiting for the right moment to strike. Tilting the mask, its shaded glass caught the distinctive reflection of a familiar life form. It stood but an arm's length away as if it had suddenly appeared out of thin air. Like a phantom merely passing through the world of the living. Quynn recognized the lucid apparition immediately. Its unforgettable terrified expression had burned into her memory not so long ago. The first menacing smile of her new body was born the moment their eyes shared a connection to each other, a moment which would fully ignite her inevitable pursuit for revenge.__ _  
_

 _ _Quynn knew that of all the phrases in all the languages of the universe, there was only one thing she wanted to say to this unfortunate soul she now sought to destroy. One undeniable truth that would follow it wherever it fled. The single most terrifying thing it would forever fear until its inescapable death. Breaking the silence between them, she finally addressed the infiltrator of her mind.__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _I'm coming for you, Clara."__

* * *

Clara gasped for breath as she flung the blanket off her trembling body and brought herself to a sitting position. A cold sweat clung to her damp brow as the nightmare started to fade from her consciousness. She observed her surroundings. The fragments of her last attainable memories were bleeding back into her mind. She had awoken on the couch, assuming the Doctor had placed her there after she had fainted. Peering down the length of her, she noticed her day dress and corset had been removed leaving her modestly clothed within her remaining undergarments. As she recalled the moments prior to the darkness befalling her, she realized the pain from the tearing inside of her had entirely subsided baring no trace of its former existence. Looking around the console room of the TARDIS, she also noticed that she had been left unaccompanied. There was no sign of the Doctor anywhere to be found leaving her alone within her own silence.

The TARDIS seemed eerily quiet without the presence of the Doctor somewhere nearby banging together some sort of project he was working on. Not that she hadn't been left alone to wander the ship before. In fact, she had many fond memories of it entertaining herself by hiding Clara's room from her while they were in the getting-to-know-one-another phase of their relationship. The ship had a way of feeling much smaller whenever the Doctor occupied her. It was as if his larger-than-life persona filled in all the empty spaces inside it. The thought of going out to look for him had crossed her mind when the door to the TARDIS opened and he walked in shaking the snow off his clothing.

"Doctor?" she called, alerting him to her newly awakened state.

"Ah, Clara!" he replied, smiling in her direction. "Good, you're awake!" He rubbed his hands together for warmth and headed towards her. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit of brand new. Is that what you feel after regenerating?"

"Uh, well, more or less. At least you have the fainting part down."

"How long was I out?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Long enough for me to get a head start on our next course of action."

"Which is?"

"I've just spoken with the Ood Council. They've agreed to let us stay here as long as necessary while we shelter ourselves from the reach of anyone who might still be looking for us. Let's just say they owe me a few favours."

"Good to know there's still one race of people _not_ trying to kill you." She cautiously stood to ensure there were no after effects from her recent endeavours, then brought herself down to him as he fiddled with the view-screen. "Doctor," she started, "exactly how long do we intend to stay here?"

"As long as needed until I am absolutely certain we are no longer being tracked. This is the safest place I can think of. So long as you are here, no one will be able to find you."

"You mean Quynn, don't you?" She observed the old man's avoiding brow as he pretended not to have heard her. "She's still alive, isn't she?" He chose to remain silent on the matter. "I feel as if we are being connected somehow, I could see her in my dream. But something about her is different now, something darker. She scares me, Doctor. It's as if something is trying to tell me that she's still alive, and intends to kill me." He continued to ignore his companion's words, his eyes searched for a distraction. "But you already knew that. You've known since before we left London, haven't you?"

He hung his head and sighed. He hoped she would have felt safer believing their daughter to be dead and not on the hunt to find them. "Yes," he finally answered.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, at the time I didn't think it was important. I had other precious matters to attend to, such as saving your life. You're welcome, by the way."

"So that was your big master plan, was it? To just go on letting me believe I had killed her?"

"There is no 'master plan'! It's just you and me against all the odds. While we stand here wasting time arguing over what hasn't been said, another moment we could be preparing ourselves is lost while Missy and Quynn seize the opportunity to plan their next attack."

"Spoken like a true soldier. Maybe Danny wasn't so far off about you after all."

The Doctor rolled his eyes in frustration. Their stubbornness was equally matched, like two rams in the heat of battle with each other for dominance. And he loved her even more for it. "Alright," he started, turning around to face her, "I can see there's something on your mind. You have my undivided attention, ask away."

"When you brought us here did it even cross your mind as to how much time hiding away from danger would buy us? How long do you think it will take before they eventually find us? We cannot hide here forever. You must have some kind of plan for getting us out of this."

"And what if I don't? Staying here is the best case scenario we have for ensuring our survival. Out there nothing is certain. What would you have us do? Just walk right up to our enemy's doorstep armed with nothing but our wit and demand they surrender?"

"Wouldn't be so far out of character for you."

He frowned at her humour, "There is much more at stake here than the chance to make a fool out of those who would try to cross me. I will not allow them to take you from me no matter the mistakes I've made or the promises I swore to keep."

"And what about what I want? You may be able to wait an eternity hoping they will give up trying to find us but I do not have that luxury. I have a life, I have people who care about me. I cannot just abandon them."

"We're in a time machine, Clara. I can take us back whenever you want. All I ask is for you to allow me a little time to find a way out of my deal with Missy. Once we are safe I can take you back home."

"Time is not something I have plenty of right now, Doctor. How much more time do you need from me? In case you've forgotten, I'm still carrying your child. You might think Danny is nothing more than a brainless soldier, but I'm pretty sure he'll figure out where I've been when he comes home from visiting his friends to find a baby in my arms!"

"Yes, well, I could see how that might look a bit suspicious."

"You think?!" Clara tried to calm herself as her frustrations took hold of her emotions. "What exactly do you plan to do then if this baby comes and we are still stuck here on this planet?"

"The TARDIS has everything we need if it were to come to that."

"Have you ever delivered a baby before?"

"Of course I have!" he assured her. "Although, it was a long time ago during my second visit to Aridius. A female from the Mire Beast tribe of octopus-people was giving birth. Well, the baby sort of pulled itself out on its own. But I helped. Actually, now that I think about it, it may have been River who assisted with the actual delivery part. But I was there, somewhere, in the background. Anyway, how hard can it be?"

"Thank you, Doctor. You've been very reassuring."

He smiled and placed his hands on her shoulders. "There's absolutely nothing to worry about. No matter what happens, I will take care of both of you." He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead, then released her and excitedly headed for the bookshelf on the upper platform.

"Doctor," she tried to stop him before he even started to plan out whatever thought was pulsating through his mind.

"Besides, I can prepare whatever you may need in the meantime right here on the ship!" He pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through its pages. "I found some materials that might be able to help guide us through this. Look, this one here is filled with all sorts of, uh, _interesting_ information!"

"Doctor- ...wait, hang on. Have you been reading pregnancy books?"

"Well, I thought maybe _you_ could read it and just paraphrase the important parts."

She rolled her eyes and tried to pull him back to reality. "Doctor. Listen, I-"

"I know it's been a while since I've done this, although I'm fairly certain not much has changed in the past two thousand years." He slowly headed back down the stairs trying to find the words he had been housing since the moment he discovered she was with child. The look in her big brown eyes drew him in like a drug as he approached her. "I know I'm not much to look at, and the TARDIS isn't exactly the safest place to raise a child, but I am prepared to do whatever it takes to make this just as much a home to both of you as it is to me."

"Doctor, please." She found it nearly unbearable to look him in the eyes. His resounding happiness was overwhelming her. Her mind was constantly at war with itself over how she truly felt about him. Always torn between whether or not to ignore her fears and embrace his open arms or slap him for being so stupid at times. As often as he had put her right in the middle of real danger, she knew there was no denying how much he truly cared for her. Despite her feelings towards him, she still felt as though there was something terribly wrong going on inside her mind. Something she knew she had no control over since the moment their memories were wiped. She noticed not only a change in herself but in him as well. It was as if he was letting go of everything that made him who he was for the sake of her safety. She knew the reason he continued to keep a companion around after all those he witnessed perish before her was because they offered him a glimpse into humanity he could never quite reach. They kept him from a path of destruction, always reminding him of the promise he swore to keep. Yet the longer she stayed around him the more she felt those responsibilities to each other being compromised.

"Just say you'll stay." His softened gaze remained hopeful he would win her over with his attempt to charm her.

She held back her tears as the burning in her throat made it difficult to speak. "I can't. I'm sorry, Doctor, but I must go back."

He couldn't help the wounded expression that formed on his face at her words. He knew she didn't owe him anything after everything he had put her through. Yet he still felt hurt that his efforts to mend what he had broken were being unreasonably rejected by her. "Clara, the second we leave this atmosphere we are at risk of being discovered. Beyond this world, I cannot protect you."

"Oh? Like you protected me on Prima Nova? Or from being kidnapped? Or how you thought it would be better to sacrifice yourself and leave me in the hands of our enemies?"

"That's fair. I deserve that. You're angry with me."

"Of course I'm angry with you! All I wanted to do was go on a date with my boyfriend, but you had to literally drag me into another one of your perilous adventures. It was you who answered the phone, it was you who put us in that carriage, and it was you who forced us into hiding on this alien planet billions of miles from _everyone_ I know and love!"

"Everyone?" he nearly whispered, almost too afraid and ashamed to even ask.

"Not to mention you traded our own daughter away before I even knew I was carrying her! If it weren't for you none of this would have happened! Just when I thought there was finally starting to be some normality in my life you had to be so, so..."

"What?"

"You!" She sighed, attempting to calm her frustrations and speak to him in the only way she knew he would understand. Taking a step towards him, she placed her hands with care into his and tried to remain confident in his presence. "I may never be able to fully forgive you for what you've done, but I understand why you did it. I can only imagine what it must have been like for you to have been put in a position where you were forced to give your own child away to save me. To have to choose between my life and whatever future may lie ahead for our daughter. We have seen what she will become. We know that whatever happens only one thing is certain, my fate is unavoidable. Whatever is coming for me cannot be escaped. We may be safe for now, but who is to say she won't be waiting for us to return? What if she decides to harm my family or go after my students in an attempt to lure me out? Don't you see? I cannot hide from this, what has been done is done. I must face whatever the consequences will be."

"Clara, please," he tried to stop her before she had made up her mind.

"Doctor, you are the best friend I've ever had. Travelling with you has given me more than just a glimpse into your world or the thrill of adventure. It has given me something I will cherish for the rest of my life. You have shown me what it means to be human more than you even know. You may have needed me to keep yourself from falling down the wrong path, but I needed you as well. Not just to save me all the time, but to show me how it felt to save others. That every person is important, especially you. There are people out there who still need the Doctor. There are still lives in need of saving without even knowing what they are waiting for is a man in a blue box to show up and offer them hope. The universe is so much bigger than you and I, and right now it needs you. Our daughter is out there enslaving people and building up her armies. There is only one person I know of that can stop her."

He lowered his head and concentrated on keeping the look of disappointment from spreading across his face, his focus drawn to the life inside of her being gently pressed between them. His hands found their way to either side of his companion's extended form and protectively caressed the curves housing his growing child. The maternal glow she had about her was simply breathtaking. The more his child grew inside of her the more irresistible she had become. As his fingers grazed carefully over the surface of her middle, a great sadness had come over him. He knew she was asking him to let her go. To show him his feelings for her were undoubtedly his greatest weakness and had been preventing him from continuing to be what he knew he must. His fears were becoming his reality, realizing the Persuader's hold on him was succeeding in its quest to dominate his mind. The more he tried to fight it the weaker he became as if it was syphoning out all of his energy to ensure he would submit to its will. He felt exhausted both in mind and body. Going up against Missy and his daughter without Clara there to remind him of what he was fighting for made him question his own capabilities. But even more upsetting to him was he knew that giving up Clara meant he'd never be able to experience what it felt like to live the life he could have with her over the never-ending desire to prove himself worthy of his own title. As long as he remained the Doctor, there would always be lives in need of saving. "Will there never be peace? Can I never rest?"

An understanding smile formed upon her face as she gently raised her hand and placed it tenderly on his cheek. "That's entirely up to you, but I will not be your reason."

He stared deeply into her eyes and forced the only smile permitted in her presence. "Oh, Clara. My Clara. What would I ever do without you?"

"Be the Doctor," she answered, continuing to cradle his cheek in her hand. "Time for you to take me home, old man."

He took her hand in his and gently kissed the top of it, taking in as much of her warmth as he could before she left him for what could be the last time. His eyes charted every inch of her memorizing gaze before nodding his head in acknowledgement of her request. "Whatever you say, boss."

* * *

Works Cited

"Clara and the TARDIS." _Doctor Who Home Video_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Jamie Stone, BBC, 24 September 2013.

"The Chase." _Doctor Who_ , written by Terry Nation, directed by Richard Martin, season 2, serial 8, BBC1, 22 May-26 June 1965.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

 _Cumbria, 1212 A.D._

The lifeless bodies of the holy men of God lined the floors of the hauntingly quiet monastery. Their frozen expression portrayed the horrors of the last thing they had witnessed before ceasing to exist in the vessels they were born into. The stone walls shed crimson tears; the blood of the massacred. The only sound permitted within the silent walls of the sacred structure was echoing from inside the dining hall; a determined tapping.

An agitated Missy paced back and forth beside a long dining table centred in the middle of the drafty room, her heels striking the floor in rhythm as they strode across it. On the table's surface sat the wicker capsule, the linens having been draped over it to hide its contents. Turning on her heels at each stopped position, she glared at the gifted basket in front of her. Another strange sound was heard from under the cloth. She halted her pace and turned towards the source of the foreign noise. Taking a few hesitated steps in the basket's direction, she placed her hand upon the fabric and pulled it up to expose the creature inside; an infant.

In its small hands it grasped a perfectly round orb, far too strange in design to have been a child's toy, and proceeded to attempt to put the object in its mouth. Missy's face contorted in disgust as the child began to slobber and drool on the ball. Taking a closer look at the tiny beast, her nose twitched in reaction to a ghastly smell coming from the cloth draped around the infant's body.

"Ugh! Such repulsive creatures," she uttered, holding a hand to her nose in protest. The infant focused its attention on the woman, a toothless grin formed over its face. "What are you looking at?!" Missy demanded. "If you think for one second I'm going to change you." The baby continued to smile at the strange woman in front of her. "What does this look like to you, a daycare?! Be warned, when it comes to babysitting I take that quite literally." The child brought its attention back to the orb and continued to try to fit it in its mouth. "Yes, that's it. Go ahead and choke on the ball, one less stupid human on this planet to deal with." She stood maleficently over the child, observing the construction of the strange sphere in its hands. "What is that thing anyway?" she asked, grabbing the orb from the child to examine it closely. The infant pouted and began to fuss, flailing its small arms with objection. It opened its mouth and started to wail in disapproval.

"Waaahh!" Missy childishly mimicked the small creature. It began to cry louder bringing its tiny fingers to its mouth. The Time Lady rolled her eyes in annoyance and pulled an object from her blouse. "That will be enough of that I think," she claimed, aiming the weapon at the baby. Before she could vaporize the innocent young mortal, she noticed a parchment partially tucked behind the quilted bedding. Replacing her weapon beneath her blouse, she reached into the basket and pulled out the folded paper. Opening it, she read the letter quietly to herself as the infant whimpered in hunger. Reading through its contents, she raised a questioning brow as she began to process the information in which she was receiving. Once she had read through its entirety, she placed the letter into her blouse and leaned forward pressing her hands onto the table. She grinned to herself, glancing eerily into the basket at the small baby.

"My my, how extraordinarily clever I am," she told the creature as it continued to cry. "There there, hush now," she cooed towards the infant. Placing her hands inside the basket, she reached in and carefully picked the child up from within, embracing it in her arms. As she gently rocked the tiny being, whispered her calming lulls, the young girl began to cease her crying as she stared up in amazement at the face of the woman she had come to know. "That's right, __mummy's__ got you."

* * *

The Doctor leaned on the console, distraught over the events that had brought him to this point. Four weeks had passed since Clara left him alone in his TARDIS once more. He was overwhelmed with sadness and guilt, pinning away every waking moment with the thought of how deeply he had damaged his companion. Every moment spent without her under his protection was a chance she could be in danger. The life and love he could be sharing with her was being given to her by another man, a man who could barely take care of himself let alone her. He loathed every part of himself, his regrets were tearing him apart piece by piece. He screamed out with such uncontrollable rage and slammed his fist upon the keys. The vengeance inside of him was transforming him into something he feared he'd never be able to come back from. He was terrified of himself and what he knew he was capable of.

He had missed his sleep cycle, becoming delirious with exhaustion and anger. The vision of his daughter falling to her death played over and over again in his mind like a nightmare. The fear and uncertainty over what her new regeneration would be like and how many faces she had gone through in the past frightened him. He hated himself for feeling responsible for what Missy had done, for what he had let her do, and for how far she had gone to betray him. He was lost in his mind and in himself. He felt as if he had lost his best friend and with her his unborn child. He had tried to contact her yet she refused his calls. He wanted so badly to tell her how sorry he was, how much she meant to him, but he knew he deserved no forgiveness from her for what he had done to them. Everything she had said about him was true. He couldn't deny the fact his very nature was the sole cause of her grief. He had lost himself within his own irresistible temptations and would forever suffer the consequences.

He rested his head on the console as tears fell from his face. He felt more alone than he had ever felt before. The only companion to keep him company was the frightening version of himself from within. After a moment, he sighed and lifted his head from the console, running his hands through his hair in an effort to maintain his composure.

Suddenly he heard the unexpected yet familiar sound of haunted shrieking coming from somewhere behind the walls of the ship once again. This time closer as if the ship herself had been possessed by some unnatural entity. The voices seemed to engulf the room, resonating off the walls and encompassing the space around him. He felt himself breathing rapidly, his eyes wide with fear, until the sound slowly faded from his ears. Just when he was beginning to think he had lost his mind, he was startled by the sound of the console phone ringing nearby. Rushing to it, he brought the phone to his ear.

"Clara!" he called out without even realizing it.

"Doctor," he heard her say, yet something was different about her voice. Something was wrong.

"Clara?" he repeated, now concerned. "What has happened?"

"Doctor, I need you." She sounded distressed, he detected a sadness in her voice he'd never heard before. Whatever had happened, there was only one thing he knew for certain. She was calling for him.

"I'm coming, Clara."

* * *

The streaks of rain ran down the panels of Clara's bedroom window as she stared blankly out of it towards nothing in particular. The sound of their drops tapping along the sill outside were the only noises permitted into the silence that had befallen her small flat. Her eyes had glazed over in sadness, her most recent tears having long since dried upon her cheeks. In her hand she clung to a full cup of tea having now cooled long ago in her grasp. She hadn't even remembered making it. Her heart was in ruin, shattered amongst the emotions she could not escape from. She couldn't recall the last time she had eaten, the feeling of hunger no longer seemed to persist inside of her. She felt suspended in thought as if the world around her had come to a halt, frozen in time, only to be awakened from her catatonic state by the small movements felt from within her. As the days passed by, she had no memory of the last time she had changed her clothes, had a wash, or spoken to another in person. She had shut everyone out; her family, her work, and her best friend. She had been avoiding the persistent calls from the Doctor, allowing the phone to ring unanswered and ignoring the continuous knocks upon her door. She couldn't help the tragic daydreams that plagued her mind every time she closed her eyes to fall deep within her own thoughts.

 _ _She opened her eyes. The wind blew through her dark hair, her fingers were raw from the cold London air. 'So quiet here,' she thought. The clouded skies provided little comfort as she hesitantly stepped forward into her surroundings. The building seemed to form underneath her footsteps as she walked closer towards the ledge of the structure she had found herself atop of. A black raven flew high overhead, cawing as it passed her. The city in front of her stretched as far as she could imagine. The sound of the howling wind was her only company as she peered down at the street far below her. The people passing by took no notice of her as they went about their lives flowing like a deep river towards their destinations. The frightened feelings she would have felt were not present as she stepped closer to the edge and peered down at the passersby. From the sea of faces, a man she knew very well stopped and slowly looked up towards her. His eyes grieved at the sight of her.__

 _"_ _ _Danny," she whispered as a tear ran down her face. She closed her eyes and upon opening them again the people had gone, all but Danny. He gazed at her with such overwhelming sadness.__

 _ _His whispered words rang inside her mind so clearly, "Don't do it, Clara. Please."__

 _ _She could not stop her tears. Her heart was tearing apart. She brought her trembling hands to her belly and rubbed it affectionately. She could feel a small warmth rising from within her as if longing to communicate, a warmth she had nearly forgotten. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to her child, her tears fading into her blouse. Her dreams had been so vivid she was no longer able to distinguish if the feelings she still clung to were real or simply imagined. A sudden burst of confidence found its way to her as she released her hands from their place and lowered her arms back to her sides. "It's the only way." She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall from the ledge into darkness.__

The Doctor stood in the doorway of Clara's small bedroom observing the familiar sight of his companion as she sat at the window. Neither the sound of the TARDIS manifesting in her living room nor his presence in her flat seemed to stir her from her position. Her eyes were closed as if she were in deep meditation. Taking notice of her appearance and the overall clutter around the room, he wondered how long she had been sitting there or even the last time she had ventured outside of this place. He hesitantly raised his hand to the frame of the door, though somewhat worried that even the quietest knock would have startled her.

"Come in," she opened her eyes, her back remained turned towards him.

He approached cautiously, not knowing what to expect from her any longer as if they were nothing more than strangers. As he drew near, he felt his hearts begin to drop. The blood drained from his face as his eyes focused on her more wilted form. She appeared almost skeletal. Her darkened eyes looked as if they had sunken into their sockets, her clothing seemed to dwarf her in comparison. Every part of her had thinned, all except for her expanded middle. The warmth he usually felt in the presence of his child was nearly extinguished, a feeling which terrified him immensely.

"You're late," she added as a weak smile formed on her face.

"Yes, well, I had to drive around the block a few times. The traffic was hell!" he smiled back. He took a seat next to her on the cushioned ledge. As hard as he tried to set his concerns for her aside, seeing her so frail was tearing him apart. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her close to him and tell her that whatever had happened he would do everything in his power to fix it. But more importantly, he feared their child was dying. The absence of her warmth and telepathic connection frightened him. "You look..." _ _Pa__ _ _le? Malnourished? Cadaverous? "__...different! Is it your hair? You've done something new with your hair, haven't you?" he asked, trying to sound even the slightest bit complimentary.

"That bad, eh?"

"Well, nothing a simple comb couldn't fix," he teased. They remained silent for a few moments. He couldn't help but look at her with such terrible sadness in his hearts for her. The woman seated in front of him was barely even a shadow of the one he had come to know and love.

"I wasn't sure you'd come." Her eyes began to water as she continued to stare out the window.

He carefully brought his hands to hers still grasping the cup of untouched tea and removed the dish setting it on the reading table next to him. Placing his hands in hers, he found himself staring at her as if trying to read her thoughts. The vibrant electricity he felt the last time he held her had vanished only to be replaced by the chilled touch of her skin. "Clara-"

"Danny's dead," she stated coldly towards the window.

The Doctor was startled, he felt himself searching for the right words to respond. She was so fragile in that moment that failing to be what she needed from him the most would certainly have broken her. __Where are those bloody cue cards when I need them__ , he wondered? With a heavy sigh, he gently squeezed her hands, running his thumbs over her cold fingers. "I'm so sorry, Clara," he replied sincerely.

"Don't," she stopped him harshly, pulling her hands from his. "I can't handle another apology right now. I've been drowning in the sea of everyone's sympathies for weeks. Please, no more."

He sighed and ran his hand down his face, trying to stay focused on mending her broken heart. "What happened?"

"There was a car. He didn't see it." The tears fell from her face. "I was on the phone with him when it happened. I heard everything, Doctor."

He found himself somewhat angered by her words. Not because of the fact that he wasn't particularly fond of her feelings for her soldier boyfriend, nor that he genuinely felt very little sympathy for him not being alive any longer, but because he had stupidly gone and died leaving her alone without any protection. Though in the face of true danger P.E. couldn't have been trusted to save her from practically any situation the Doctor could possibly think of, at least having one person watching out for her while he was being shut out of her life was better than having no one. "Why didn't you call me sooner?" he asked, trying to keep his anger and hurt at bay.

"I needed to be by myself for a bit, think things through." She could barely look at the old man. Having solely been with Danny the past month, the intense feelings she continually had for the Doctor had subsided under the reality of letting him go. Just being around him, even now, the uncontrollable thoughts she had buried under layers of denial had been fighting their way to the surface of her emotions. The more she was away from him the stronger the desire to be with him had become. "I'm so sorry, Doctor. For what I said. For letting you go." She could no longer hold back the tears that forced their way down her soft cheeks. "The truth is, I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. When the time comes for this child to be taken away from me, from __us-__ "

"That won't happen," he protested.

"But what if it does? What if you cannot stop Missy from coming for our daughter? You saw what happened to her, what she will become."

"History can be rewritten."

"Not if we already know what is going to happen." She noticed his frowning brow. "You see, I have learned a few things from travelling with you."

The Doctor sighed. As infuriating as it was having his own words turned against him, he knew she was right. "There is still a chance we could change the outcome. There's still time to find a way out of the deal, to possibly discover something she wants more than this child."

"And what if you're wrong? What if she comes for her and I can't give her up? What if she kills us both because I'm not strong enough to do what I have to do?" She stared into his eyes as if searching for answers within his unreadable expression. "I never asked for this, for __any__ of this."

"I know. And I'm sorry. You have no idea how truly sorry I am that this happened to you, to us." Seeing his companion so frightened added even more guilt to his hardened conscience. The moment between them became silent as their troubled thoughts dominated their minds. His eyes lingered over her sorrowed form, resisting the urge to hold her in his arms and comfort her. He hated not being able to determine if what he was feeling for her at the moment was real or merely placed there by the Persuaders.

"Now that Danny is gone I feel like I've lost everything. I've lost my boyfriend, my best friend, and soon even my own child will be taken from me. Sometimes I can't help but feel as though I have no reason to go on living anymore. And that feeling frightens me more than anything."

A concerned frown formed over the Doctor's face. He had never heard her speak in such a way before. The Clara he knew was always so full of life, the brilliant light that guided him through the darkness, the fire that burned on the coldest of nights. He knew she was hurting, that she was suffering in more ways than he could even imagine. But it still pained him greatly to hear her say such things. "You have me, Clara. And you always will," he affirmed with deep sincerity.

Her eyes returned to his, smiling for the first time in ages as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Good, because I could really use a friend right now." She leaned in towards him and rested her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her and placed his cheek on the top of her head as he cradled her. His concern for her pulled at every heart-string, worried she was slipping deeper into a place he could not pull her from. He was angered she had gotten to this point, withered away and refusing his help. The living visual of the damage he caused was resting herself between his arms, he felt so powerless against its hold on her. As she absent-mindedly ran her fingers over the buttons on his vest, his hearts were breaking for her. He knew he had no control over her and never would. He was in constant guilt over putting her in this position in the first place, knowing he did not deserve the forgiveness he so desperately sought.

"I can't feel her anymore, her warmth," she confessed, running her hand along her middle. "Her movements are so small now I hardly even notice them."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said that didn't worry me greatly." He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently leaned her away from him so he could see her face. "Clara, I'm extremely concerned about you. I've seen twigs that look better than you do right now." She frowned at his words. "I'm being serious. I understand that you are upset, and you have every right to be. But now is the time for you to be strong. If not for yourself, then do it for her." He lowered his hands and carefully rested the tips of his fingers over his child, slowly gliding them along the surface of his companion's abdomen as if he were reading Braille. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you. I don't expect to ever be forgiven for my actions. All I can do is tell you how deeply sorry I am for what I have done, to beg you to take your anger and pain out on me. Blame me for Danny's death if it will help you. But please, Clara. Spare her from the wrong that has been done to you. I am the one who deserves to be punished, she is innocent." He felt his head hang in remorse, his hands gently cradled either side of their child. There was a stillness inside of her, an absence of life and light that saddened him beyond all words. There was a sense of loss he hadn't felt in such a long time. Then suddenly there was a faint flutter, so very weak he barely detected it at all. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the small movement. He felt himself being drawn into her life force once more.

He opened his eyes to find himself engulfed within the familiar darkness he had previously visited before. Where there was once an unconditional feeling of love and light all around him, he discovered only despair. The particles that made up the essence of his daughter's life had diminished almost entirely. He found himself utterly alone inside the void of her existence. Fearing the worst, he had all but given up hope she was alive when a small speck of light found its way to him. And then another. Far off in the distance, almost too small to detect, he discovered the source. Hesitating for only a moment, he cautiously made his way towards its captivating glow. Her once vibrant form had been nearly extinguished, barely even large enough to fill the palm of his hand. He could see she was suffering, almost too weak to cling to even the smallest thread of life still reaching out to her. He felt the spear of sorrow pierce his chest, finding it difficult to breathe as he gazed upon her dimming light. Her faint whispers called out to him as he cradled her remaining warmth. Their minds connected to each other.

Upon their touch he saw her thoughts flooding into his own, allowing him a glimpse into her first memories. Yet the images he received from her were more daunting than he could have ever imagined. Where there should have been love and kindness he saw only agony and grief. He was engulfed by the memories his child shared from her mother's mind; her tears, her despair, her darkness, her yearning for an end to her pain. He could see Clara's deepest darkest secrets, the shocking thoughts she carried of taking her own life that had been haunting her in her dreams. He became consumed with fear as he was forced to watch the visions of the woman he loved imagining killing herself over and over again, a never-ending tragedy. The thought alone of not being able to stop her from hurting herself ripped him apart. But more importantly, he was uncertain as to how her mind had become plagued with these thoughts. The illness inside of them had been gaining in strength ever since the moment he discovered they had been infected. The longer the virus remained inside of him the deeper the desires to be with her had become. A longing he knew she must equally share. The only explanation he could contrive of her current state of mind was that her subconscious had somehow become aware of the infiltration forcing her to submit to its true power. And she was fighting back.

As terrified as he was of his companion's metaphysical state, there was no greater a fear than his child's whose own life now hung in the balance between their connected life force. A fear which penetrated every part of his being. He opened his mind to hers in an attempt to soothe her frightened thoughts. " _ _I'm here now. Don't be afraid__ _,"_ he called out to her. He reached into his soul and showered her with the visions of love he shared for her and her mother. He wanted to show her she brought him a new aspect of happiness and it was worth fighting for. He greatly desired to bring hope back into her life. As much as he felt responsible for her withered state of being, he couldn't just stand by and let her fate be determined for him. In order to save his child he would need to save Clara, whether she wanted him to or not.

With a small gasp, he pulled himself back to consciousness meeting Clara's weakened gaze. He felt himself losing control of his emotions. He glanced away as tears began to form at the brim of his eyes so that she would not see. He cleared his throat and stood abruptly, turning his back to her. He felt the need to release himself from her side before he became lost in her presence. He brought his hand to his face and pressed his fingers over his eyes as if attempting to keep his tears at bay. The more he tried to resist them the more they persisted in being known. He had been so accustomed to concealing his emotional weaknesses from everyone he had ever known for so long he had not anticipated its true power over him. The Persuader's snare had been succeeding in tearing down his walls piece by piece, dismantling his defences like an indestructible army. He became frightened of what would be left of him once his mind had been completely taken over by the virus still thriving inside of him.

"Doctor," she called softly towards him. When he didn't answer, she arose from the ledge and slowly approached him from behind. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, letting him know she was there for him if he needed her. Through all of her travels with him, she had seen the many different sides to who he was; his anger, his frustration, his excitement, and his determination. The man who stood before her now was completely uncharted, a side of him so rare she didn't know how to be what he needed from her. As reserved as he was pretending to be in front of her, she knew there was something going on inside of him he couldn't control. A pain even she could not feel. "Doctor," she called again, "what did you see?"

He remained silent for a few moments as he fought back the emotions threatening to push their way through his barriers. He felt a sense of guilt for having invaded her private thoughts. He was angry at himself for failing his companion in the first place, he was angry at her for letting him go, he was disheartened by her state of mind and body being the cause of his child's suffering, and he was frightened of losing the two people he loved the most. In order to save them, he couldn't just talk his way back into Clara's heart. She was much too clever for that. He wanted her to see that he didn't need her so that he could be the Doctor he needed to be, that she wasn't just someone who could easily be replaced. He needed her in his life because she was worth fighting and even dying for. The most important thing to him now was their survival, even if it meant there was no longer a place for him in their life. He turned around to face her, his concern for exposing his weakness had suddenly become second to his greater need to save her from herself. He gently grasped her opened hand and slowly traced the tips of his fingers over the chilled touch of her palm as if he were memorizing every last detail. "I need your help, Clara. One last time."

Her eyes studied his with anticipation, yet remained somewhat startled by his request. The spark she normally would have felt at such an offer would have surely awoken the adventurer side of her. However, the reluctance she felt towards him at that moment stemmed entirely from his inability to have kept them out of harm's way. The trust she had once felt confident in bestowing had been severely damaged. It was as if there were a part of him that had shrugged off all responsibility as a consequence for agreeing to have become his companion. But this time felt different. As she looked into his tearful eyes, she knew this wasn't just the next adventure he had in store for them. This wasn't just some attempt at letting her become the bait so he could rush in at the last minute and save the day. This time it was serious, this time it was real. "I'm here, Doctor."

Bringing her hand to his lips, he gently kissed her soft skin. "Help me, Clara," he pleaded to every last ounce of her still remaining. "Help me save her."

Her heart shattered the moment she realized his love for them was more overwhelming than she could have imagined. It triggered an emotion inside of her so strong it had encompassed every part of her being by bringing life back into her emptying soul. As determined as she had become to protect herself from all the threats of the universe he had somehow managed to find himself apart of, his loyalty to her had remained a constant in their relationship no matter how hard she tried to push him away in the past. For the first time she truly understood what type of man he had been hiding, not only from her eyes but from himself as well. She suddenly experienced the exhilarating sensation of no longer feeling weighed down by her uncertainties nor the guilt of hurting the man who had risked everything just to be with her. She peered into his eyes with a new understanding of the love and affection they each shared for one another. Yet deep down she was terrified of the darkness steadfastly taking control over her mind and heart. She knew it was only a matter of time before her predestine caught up with her. The only hope she had at calming the rising tide resided within him. She tenderly wiped the remaining tear from his cheek and whispered to him her answer.

"Show me how."

* * *

Works Cited

"The Angels Take Manhattan." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Nick Hurran, season 7, episode 5, BBC One, 29 September 2012.

"Dark Water." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 11, BBC One, 1 November 2014.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Has it always been this cold in here?" she asked as the Doctor gently led her through the threshold of the TARDIS.

He raised his brow at the question, concentrating all of his energy on delicately guiding her towards the seat as if she would shatter at any moment. "Ah, yes. I've been meaning to fix that," he lied. He helped to situate her on the cushioned chair then headed back through the door into her flat once again. "Make yourself at home, I'll only be a minute!" he called from outside.

Clara took this momentary time to herself to scan the familiar room for anything that might have been out of sorts since the last time she was aboard. __So many memories, this place,__ she thought as she reminisced through every encounter both within the ship and wherever it had taken her. It had become a part of her heart, the missing piece to the puzzle that was her existence. She couldn't even imagine what her life would have been like had the Doctor not shown up on the doorstep of the Maitland household that day. She wouldn't even be alive if it were not for him. Her consciousness would have forever been lost inside the digital world for all of eternity without him there to pull her out of it. The woman she used to be was consumed by the never-ending desire to one day travel the world, filling the pages of her scrapbook with her extraordinary journey into self-discovery and exploration. He offered her the universe.

Upon her observations, she noticed the work table, normally reserved for engineering all of his oddly structured gadgets and inventions, had been repurposed as a drawing board for several dozen different sketches and mathematical calculations. Her curiosity got the better of her and she stood to gain a better look at his project. Sifting through the pages, she encountered numerous models of planets and solar systems charted throughout the galaxy. Each location had been given a precise numerical equation and symbol beside it. "What have you been doing in here?" she called out to him.

After a few moments, he re-entered through the door holding a travel bag full of maternity clothes and the warmest throw blanket he could find. "I wasn't sure what you would need," he gestured to the articles in his hands, "I hope these will be sufficient." He placed the bag on the floor and began unfolding the blanket.

"What is all this?" she asked, holding the drawings up to the light.

"Ah, I see you've discovered my battle plans," he answered, gracefully placing the blanket over her shoulders.

"Have you been scheming to start a war I don't know about?"

"We're already at war, and I intend to stay one step ahead of it." He moved to the table and spread out the pages in front of him. "According to the charted maps lining the walls inside of Quynn's battle-room, these are the exact locations of her bases of operation."

"Wait, hang on. Did you seriously memorize all of this from just one glance?"

"Of course I did. What else did you expect me to do while she tangentially rambled on about herself, make tea?"

"What are you planning to do?"

"In order to gain an advantage over her forces, I'll need to disrupt the inner workings of her infrastructures. Even if that means I have to take them out one by one. The weaker her hold on the planets she controls the easier it will be to bring her down."

"And this is what you needed my help with? To go into battle with you? Have you seen me lately?" she gestured to her appearance.

"No, no. Your job is much more important. And far less dangerous," he assured her.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked. He reached into his pocket pulling out a pair of small audio devices and held them out in front of him. "Let me see if I've got this right," she began, hesitantly taking one from his open hand, "you want me to stay here on the ship while you charge straight onto the battlefield, _alone_?"

"Precisely, I need you to be my eyes and ears. We have no idea what could be out there, what dangers we may face. This is the best alternative we have to keeping you safe."

"And what about you? What if you end up getting yourself killed out there?"

"The TARDIS safety features will be activated in the event of my death. She will take you back home and dematerialize, hiding herself away so she does not fall into the wrong hands."

Clara sighed and brought her fingers to her temples in mild frustration. It certainly wasn't the first time she had considered his reckless plans to be positively suicidal, and it wouldn't be the last either. "And what about the TARDIS, isn't she still being tracked? Won't they know we are coming?"

"Ah, I've thought about that." He headed to the console, pressed a few buttons on its interface, then grabbed a handle-like apparatus and pulled it down towards him. Suddenly the ship began to shift its power. The emergency lighting activated and flashed all around them.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm switching off the safeguards, turning off the navigation computer."

"Right, okay. And why are we doing that exactly?"

"If I had to guess, I would say Quynn has been tracking our movements via a tracer attached to the nav-com. It must be broadcasting our time vortex signature directly to her and she's been using it to follow us through the wake we leave behind. I'm simply interrupting the broadcast. The TARDIS is equipped with certain safety measures to ensure flight is still possible in the event the navigation computer became damaged. Remember, we've done this before. We plugged you into the TARDIS telepathic interface."

"You mean the squishy thing?"

"Clara. This is the most advanced ship in the entire universe, equipped with more scientific technology than any other race in the galaxy will ever possess. She's a living breathing machine able to psychically translate millions of languages directly into your mind. The sheer complexity of her very existence and capabilities would take me an entire lifetime just to explain to you." He removed a panel from the console revealing the gel-like material that formed its telepathic interface. "And yes, the squishy thing."

"Doctor," she started as she watched him head back over to the table and proceed to look over his plans, "exactly how do you intend to take out her forces? We've seen their defences, their weapons. We know how powerful they are. Let's just talk this out a bit. Do you honestly think you'll defeat them all by running straight into battle armed with only a screwdriver?"

"Every army has its weakness, the key is simply finding it before they discover yours."

Clara sighed concededly and began to accept the fact that his mind had already been made. "Are you absolutely sure about this? What if Quynn is there waiting for us? What if this plan of yours doesn't work? What then, Doctor?"

He sighed and turned around to face his companion. The thoughts he protected inside himself had begun to bleed out. The more he tried to bandage them the larger the wound had become. The greatest truth he had always been haunted by was the fear of failure both in himself and everyone who had ever counted on him. The fear of failing his own title when challenged by the never-ending threats that seemed to find him at every turn. Yet there was not a single thing that could even compare to the fear of losing the one person he loved most of all. The fear of not being able to protect her from the dangers of the universe, nor even himself. As she looked upon him with considerable apprehension in her gaze, he couldn't help but feel defenceless against each passing moment as if it would be her last. Attempting to raise her spirits with calming conversation seemed even more irrelevant the closer they came to fighting back against the unknown dangers they now faced.

"I wish I could tell you there is nothing to worry about, that I could guarantee our success. For all I know this could very well be the single most devastating risk I've ever had to take. As hard as it has been for me to admit it, you were right. Whatever your fate may be cannot be avoided nor can it be predicted. But that doesn't mean we have to sit here and allow it to happen without a fight." He approached her slowly, suddenly breaking free of the petrified state keeping him bolted him to the floor. His words became more intense as he drew closer to her. "I will not allow the mistakes I've made define who I am or what I am capable of. There are people out there suffering and it is all because of me. The universe is being torn apart, history as we know it is being rewritten. It all comes down to one small moment, one fixed point in time occurring over and over again. Every action that has been taken, every word that has been said, even this very conversation. It has all happened before. A continuous loop, an infinite amount of scenarios all leading to the same outcome."

Clara suddenly felt so small in front of him as he towered over her, trapping her between himself and the console. "I don't understand," she started, almost too afraid to speak, "what do you mean this has happened before?" She could sense the tension rising between them at their closeness to each other. She felt both cornered and protected all at the same time, a strange combination of uncertainty.

A grin formed on the Doctor's face at the question. It had been far too long since he was last able to explain the laws of time and the universe to anyone. He removed himself from her personal space and quickly headed to the upper part of the platform, the thoughts in his mind bursting their way out in all directions. "Every causal loop is caused by an unchanging self-originating constant, some __thing__ that must exist simply because it has to. Time travel can be a very tricky, very dangerous thing if you don't know what you're doing." Clara watched as he hurried along the railing and stopped suddenly at the familiar stone bust of a man which sat on a small table near one of the bookshelves.

"Take, for instance, Ludwig van Beethoven here," he employed her, placing his arm delicately around the shoulder of the bust as if they were long-time friends.

"The composer?" she asked as the look of confusion settled upon her face.

"No, the astronaut. Of course the composer! Now, let us also imagine there is a man who has a time machine."

"I'll give it a go."

"Up and down history he goes getting into scrapes. Another thing he has is a passion for the works of Beethoven. And one day he thinks to himself, 'what's the point of having a time machine if you don't get to meet your heroes?' So off he goes to eighteenth-century Germany before the very thought of a musical masterpiece was even a figment inside the composer's mind. But when he gets there, he discovers Ludwig has fallen upon dark times and refuses to ever compose another piece again. This didn't happen, by the way. I've met Beethoven. Nice chap, very intense, loved an arm-wrestle. No, this is called the Bootstrap Paradox. Google it. The time traveller panics, he can't bear the thought of a world without the music of Beethoven. Luckily he'd brought all of his sheet music for Ludwig to sign. So he copies out all the concertos and the symphonies then promises to give the composer back his inspiration if he passes the music off as his own. Ludwig accepts and history continues with barely a feather ruffled. Until one day those copies reach the time traveller's future self which prompts him to travel back in time to meet his hero. A never-ending loop. But my question is this, who originally put those notes and phrases together? Who really composed Beethoven's Fifth?"

"You're doing that thing with your face again," she informed him through her puzzled expression.

"What 'thing'?"

"That look you give when you're trying to explain something that makes my head go fuzzy."

"It's called a smile, Clara. Apparently, it's what people do. Or so I've heard."

"Right, wouldn't want anyone to see passed your clever disguise. Anyway, what exactly does Beethoven have anything to do with us?"

"Nothing, and everything!" he exclaimed, heading back down the stairs towards her. "All this time I've been blaming myself for picking up the phone, for believing myself to be solely responsible for what has happened. But I've realized my focus has been concentrated in the wrong place. In the end, it doesn't matter who really wrote the music. Only that it exists." He felt himself being pulled back to her as he approached. The force that bound them together was unmistakable. The connection shared between them could never be simplified to emotion alone. They were two parts of the same mixture. No matter what they had experienced in the past, there was an unbreakable trust keeping them bound together. A trust he could see in her eyes even now as he stood as close to her as physics would allow it. "Whatever has happened to us may never have a true beginning nor an end. The only certain thing is the existence of the constant binding you and I together. A constant which now rests between us, quite literally." He smiled and peered down the length of his companion to where her body met his own.

"So you're saying all of this is her fault? That she has trapped us in this loop, or whatever it is, forever?" She placed a protective hand over her middle.

He snickered and rested his hand atop her own. "Not even born yet and already a trouble maker," he teased, maintaining the grin on his face.

"She must take after you then," she replied smirking.

"If we ever make it out of this alive I'd expect we're going to have our hands full." He made his way back towards the console's telepathic interface.

Clara felt her smile begin to fade at his words regardless of how harmless his intentions were. There was more truth to that statement than she even realized. A great cloud of doubt arose inside of her over his hubris in their success of this potentially suicidal mission. What if he was right? What if none of what they were trying to accomplish would even matter in the end? There was no way of knowing if this plan of his had already been tried and failed a hundred times before. No way to know if they would be altering their daughter's future or simply allowing it to happen. What if there really was no way out?

The Doctor rubbed his hands together in preparation for their departure to the first location on his list, then hovered them over the interface as he looked to her for support. "Are you ready?" he asked her nervously. The reluctance in her nod was as transparent as the room they stood in. He couldn't help reminiscing over the liveliness she once displayed towards him whenever they found themselves embarking on a new adventure. It was as if the fire inside of her had been left to die out. He took a deep breath and slowly lowered his hands towards the gel-like interface.

"Doctor, wait," she spoke, freezing him in place as she placed her hand upon his forearm. "We'll do it together."

He braved a smile her way, then closed his eyes and dipped his fingertips into the cool substance below. He concentrated all of his thoughts towards their destination, allowing his mind to focus on a singular image. His senses began to paint a picture of the tangible dampness of the controls, the feel of its material on his bare skin, the grip of her fingers around his arm, the rhythm of her heart beating through the palm of her hand. He tried to ignore the distractions surrounding him and the concerns he had for his companion's wilted form. In order for them to land safely at the correct location, his mind must first be completely relieved of any attachments he held inside of his aching hearts. The gel forming around his fingers connected to every fibre of his skin as if they were one and the same being. He thought about where they needed to go, what they needed to accomplish, and, above all, the importance of being successful in their mission. As he focused on the image of the planet in his mind, sending it through the interface like coordinates on a map, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the strong vision of his fetal daughter calling out to him through her mother's touch. His mind was being redirected to the love he shared for her and his determination to save her so that one day he would be able to hold her in his arms.

His eyes flew open at the sound of the time rotor starting up. The mechanisms inside the centre chamber began to ascended and descended back into itself. A look of concern passed over his face at his lack of concentration during the interlinking process. He had no way of knowing if the destination had been correctly received by the interface. The only certain thing was that the TARDIS had suddenly begun to materialize into action as her signature time-travelling clattered chorus sounded all around them. He hastily shifted his focus toward his friend. The look of surprise confined in his expression at their departure was matched only by her uneasiness of what they were about to encounter once they had landed.

"I'm suddenly having my doubts about this," he admitted.

"Well, the TARDIS seems to think she knows where she's going," she countered, trying to remain positive.

"One can only hope."

* * *

 _Messaline, 6012 A.D._

The TARDIS landed abruptly at its psychically charted destination despite the Doctor's distracted thoughts having led the way. He found himself slightly amazed that the ship had been able to locate the new point of interest, yet was suddenly intrigued by the endless possibilities waiting for him outside the safety of his blue box. Having disabled most of the ship's safety control systems, he felt as if he had wandered blindly into a dark and dangerous jungle armed only with his bare hands. Checking the view-screen, he raised a curious brow as the surrounding elements on the outside appeared to be somewhat familiar to him, though he could not determine where or when he had seen them before. A series of underground tunnels had encased them inside of its jagged stone walls. With the safeguards and nav-com turned off it was impossible to determine what potential lifeforms could be lingering outside. Had it not been for the undying thirst for discovery and the ever increasing eagerness to explore their new surroundings drawing him out, he would have forced himself to revise his previous coordinates favourably without the unpredictability of his wandering mind. However, distractions aside, the TARDIS must have had some reason for bringing them there while his consciousness was interlinked within her interface.

"This is it, yeah?" Clara glanced over his shoulder towards the view-screen.

"Only one way to know for certain." He tried his very best to sound as confident as possible as he placed the small audio device into his ear.

"I suppose there's no point in trying to talk you out of this, is there?" She remained hopeful he'd change his mind as she plugged the second device into her own ear.

"You'll be able to see everything I see from right here." He ignored her predictably disquieted glance as he pointed to the screen in front of them. "With the nav-com offline we won't be alerted to the presence of other lifeforms. So, I'll need __you__ to monitor the ship's surveillance system and keep an eye out for any potential threats."

"Sounds easy enough. So I'm basically your spy."

"Aren't you the lucky one?" he teased. "Now remember, if something were to happen and I don't make it back to the ship, you must use the telepathic interface to fly the TARDIS back home. Don't hesitate, just go."

"You want me to just abandon you here?"

"If it comes to that, yes."

"Well, let's just hope it doesn't come to that then."

"And whatever you do, stay here." He pointed a stern finger towards the floor. "No matter what happens out there, you must not leave this ship. This is the safest place for you to be. Best to keep you out of trouble this time 'round."

Clara found herself frowning at his words. Had it not been for his refusal to heed her warnings of potential danger, they wouldn't have even been in this mess to begin with. However, she knew there would be plenty of time to remind him of how awfully infuriating he was once all of this was finally over. He headed for the door and cautiously pulled it open. "Doctor," she called to him, his eyes turned to meet hers. "Be careful, okay? Don't do anything stupid, like get yourself killed." She tried to force a small smile of confidence on her face to mask the worry embedded throughout her emotions. Her currently over-sized matronly ensemble was the only thing sheltering her trembling body from his furrowed eyes. It took all of her energy to calm her nerves so as not to reveal how truly frightened she was at the thought of him never returning to her again.

"When have you known me to do anything stupid?"

"Seriously? Have you met you?" she quipped.

He responded to her humour with a rigorous brow. "Right. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it." He exited the ship and closed the door securely behind him.

The subterranean cavern surrounding him was as familiar as taking a stroll inside one of his own memories, one that hadn't been visited in such a long time. A memory so unused it had nearly been forgotten. Yet at the same time, he experienced an overwhelming sense of uneasiness as if something in the back of his mind was telling him he had been here before. He was left with the unfaltering sensation of déjà vu taunting him with fragmented visions derived from his scattered recollection of this planet they had found themselves on. As he surveyed the darkened space around him, he found himself relying almost solely on his extraordinary senses to take in all the extra details he might have been missing.

The aroma in the air was palpable and stale; a rich fragrance of minerals distributed from the ground underneath his feet. Even more noticeable was the soil itself. The path in front of him had become a tramping ground forged by several unmistakable sets of footprints marking the way out. A series of electrical wires ran like untamed vines across the ground, branching out to bring life to the lights lining the bottom of the cavern walls. The only source of illumination throughout the darkness engulfing him. Lifting his sonic-screwdriver out in front of him, he activated its torch setting allowing him to better observe the area around him. "Well, that's interesting," he spoke aloud.

"What is it? What have you found?" he heard her say into his ear.

"These cables, their construction is fairly new. Which leads me to believe someone has been here very recently." He carefully stepped over each wire and slowly headed deeper into the cave. "I'm going to attempt to locate its source. Whatever is powering these lights must not be far from here."

"Just be careful, Doctor. Knowing our luck this is probably a trap."

The Doctor pushed forward. His memories began to wake up to the senses around him. Ahead of him, he encountered a flickering light as if whatever the source it had been attached to had been badly damaged. In the darkness he could make out a sort of sealed glass structure, a chamber perhaps, embedded into the wall of the cave. The lights inside of it continued to flicker. Finally reaching the glass chamber, he raised his torch to better observe the malfunctioning electronics lining its exterior hatch. His consciousness suddenly accelerated to full throttle. The forgotten memories stored within him began to flood his thoughts. A wave of suppressed emotions hit him unexpectedly as he finally realized exactly where he was. He cautiously raised his hand to place it tenderly upon the surface of the glass. He closed his eyes and allowed the memories of this forgotten place to run its course through his mind. The voices of his past could be heard so clearly in his head it was as if they had never truly gone.

 _ _"Where did she come from?" Martha asked, still confused from the assault on her friend.  
__

 _ _"From me," he answered, still in shock at the young woman now standing before him.  
__

 _ _"From you? How? Who is she?" Donna interrupted them, even more confused than the others.  
__

 _ _"Well, she's... well, she's my daughter." His emotions teetered between denial and acceptance.__ _ _  
__

 _ _The young blonde woman stepped forward from inside the chamber and smiled towards the lengthy man in the strange brown jacket, "Hello, Dad."__

"Jenny," he whispered aloud. The pain of losing his loom-born daughter suddenly returned to him as if all memory of her had been stolen from his mind.

"Doctor?" he heard Clara respond in his ear. "Are you alright? Is someone there with you?"

 _ _Why did you bring me here?__ He asked himself of the ship's decision to send them to this chosen location. _ _Must I suffer these memories as well? Is it not enough that I am doing everything in my power to save my remaining child's life?__ He felt anger rising inside of him at the ship's cruelness to send him there. __Why this place? Why here, why now? What am I missing?__ He continued to ask as he attempted to find a reason behind this unwarranted detour. He combed through the events leading up to their departure and retraced his thoughts before the ship had started up. And then it suddenly became so very clear. The final thing that entered his mind before their destination had been received by the interface was the thought of holding his daughter in his arms. The TARDIS must have connected that emotion to the very last thing he experienced during his first visit to this place. The act of cradling his dying daughter and the memory of watching the vibrancy of her short-lived life fading from her body.

Upon opening his eyes, he began to take in all the details of the chamber's construction as if trying to remember exactly how it felt to have stood in front of it two faces ago. Yet something strange had caught his attention. The mechanism designed to pull DNA from a singular host had been altered. The chamber had also been upgraded with more advanced technology than it had been fitted with before. The Doctor felt the frown on his face deepen, realizing whoever was responsible for altering it had found a way to manipulate the chamber's primary functions to successfully produce identical copies without needing the DNA of an original host.

"Doctor? Can you still hear me? Is everything alright?" Clara continued to call to him.

 _ _Something is wrong__ , he thought to himself. __This technology shouldn't even exist yet, so why is it here?__ Beside the chamber he could make out what appeared to be a small console station fitted with a narrow slot intended for a type of holographic disk. Approaching it, he scanned the console and activated its power setting. Its interface struggled to power up before displaying the uploaded contents of the disk in the form of a view-screen. The flickering image produced a detailed map of the cave and surrounding infrastructures. He had seen this map before. Although the technology had been upgraded, the layout of the building had remained for the most part unchanged. __That's strange__ , he thought as he attempted to expand the map to a view of the planet. The image fluttered as its energy source began to drain more rapidly. Aiming his screwdriver towards the interface, he redirected as much power as he could from the surrounding area directly to the console. The view-screen suddenly came alive with vibrancy. The detailed rendering of the degraded planet's current condition filled every edge of the frame. __Messaline__ , he thought, his suspicions now confirmed, __but it can't be!__

Next to him, the lights continued to flicker inside the glass chamber. He could hear the small panel adjacent to the sealed door fluctuating as it attempted to draw more power to itself. The display and keypad were barely functioning as it faded in and out of life. He directed his attention towards the malfunctioning panel and scanned its hardware for a possible answer to who might have installed the newer upgraded systems. Suddenly the panel started to spark as the electronics inside of it surged from extensive corrosion. "No, no, no!" he screamed at the panel. "Come on, don't do this to me! I need to know!"

"Doctor? Tell me what's going on, you're seriously starting to scare me."

"I'm coming back to the ship. We need to leave this planet immediately."

"What? Why? Doctor, what is it? What did you see?"

"Something I shouldn't have," he answered, looking upon his own reflection staring back at him through the glass. "Clara, I-" he began to say before suddenly being interrupted by a loud bang as the panel suffered a complete system failure and exploded. It was as if it had been rigged to go off in the event that any tampering had been detected. The small blast sent out a shock-wave which shattered the glass door of the chamber and nearly sent him flying to the other side of the cave. He managed to quickly raise his arm in time to protect his face from potential shrapnel before being thrown to the ground.

"Doctor?! Doctor, can you hear me?!" Clara called into her earpiece as the vibrations from the blast were felt from inside the ship. "Doctor! Are you there? Answer me!" She pulled the view-screen down towards her. The once clear image of the cave had been clouded by a thick layer of smoke and dust making it impossible to receive a clean visual of the outside of the ship. She had been blinded and completely cut off from the outside world. Whatever had happened out there only one thing was certain, he was truly on his own now. "What's happening out there?!" she yelled towards the silent Gallifreyan rings that held the time rotor together. "Don't you dare go quiet on me! You are every bit as much to blame for us being here! He could be in danger right now, or worse!" The ship continued to play the silent game as Clara restlessly paced back and forth, unable to resist the horrid thoughts entering her mind of what may have happened to her best friend.

"Something is wrong. He should have been back by now, he would have responded," she spoke to the ship as if hoping for some kind of validation to her concerns over his well-being. When there wasn't any, she found herself suddenly very afraid of how truly alone she felt at that moment. She continued to pace, nervously biting her thumb as she tried to come to terms with what he had told her to do in case he didn't come back to her. She shook the thoughts from her mind as a burst of confidence forced her to take drastic action. "That's it. If you're not going to help me, I'll do it myself," she asserted towards the interface then headed to the travel bag the Doctor had packed for her to rummage around for her jacket. Finding it, she quickly placed it on and started for the door when the ship finally responded with a series of unfavourable noises.

"Yes, I know what he said and I don't care!" she yelled back as she grabbed the handle and pulled, only to find it wouldn't budge. Clara angrily spun around to face the console. "Open the door," she demanded. The ship clattered with refusal. "Listen to me you blue bucket of bolts and fancy whistles. I realize we haven't always gotten on. You've hidden my bedroom, you've even put a leopard in my bathroom. But this, this isn't about me. This is about the man we both love, and right now he's out there all alone and he needs our help. If he dies out there it's on you. I swear with every part of my being that if something happens to him you will never be rid of me. I will never leave this ship even if it means I'll die in here. You will spend the rest of your lonely existence without your Time Lord, carting around a bloody pile of bones while I haunt the inside of these walls for all eternity. Just you and me, forever." Her eyes were fierce, her voice threatening and angry. "So, what's it gonna be?" The two of them were drowning in silence for a few moments as they squared off against each other for control over the situation. Suddenly the door to the outside opened allowing the cool air from their surroundings to enter and pass through them. A small smile formed on the young woman's face as she peered gratefully towards the living machine, "Thank you." She then turned and exited through the threshold on a mission to find her friend.

Outside the ship, the Doctor coughed and fanned the smoke from his face as he approached the decimated panel to better assess the damage. Placing his hand to his ear, he called out to his companion. "Clara? Are you alright?" The silence from the earpiece was concerning. "Clara, can you hear me? Clara!" he called again, the realization finally hitting him that their communication had been severed. He concluded that the blast from the panel must have destroyed the circuits inside the earpiece and temporarily stranded them from each other.

"Doctor?" a voice echoed in the distance.

He was almost certain he imagined it as he peered through the fine airborne sediment towards the sound of the voice. He tapped his earpiece and called for his companion once more. "Clara, is that you?" he asked, hoping the audio device had somehow come back online. Through the thickened haze a shadow quickly approached him. A spout of adrenaline arose from within him as he prepared himself to engage in possible combat with the unknown being.

"Doctor?" a feminine voice he recognized called out to him. "Doctor, are you alright? Where are you?!" She coughed and batted her way through to him.

He gave a sigh of relief followed by frustrated anger as he realized who the voice belonged to. "Clara! What are you doing out here?! I told you to stay on the ship!" He headed to her and took hold of her arms as if trying to determine if she was indeed real and therefore stupid enough to be standing in front of him.

"What, and let you have all the fun?" she replied, slightly out of breath.

"Ah, yes. You've finally discovered the truth. We've really come all this way because I've secretly been planning a much needed fun-filled weekend holiday for two. Surprise! I hope you like the view, very authentic. I give it at least three stars." His furious temper and sarcasm had finally reached maximum capacity, "Now will you please go back to the ship!"

"I'm not going back there without you. I won't let you do this alone," she insisted, pulling herself from his grasp.

"Clara, as much as I appreciate your concern, I don't think you quite understand the severity of the situation. This entire planet is a war zone and we are currently standing right in the middle of it! I will not allow myself to put you and our child in danger just so you can quench your thirst for adventure!"

"You said we needed to leave this planet. So you're either coming back with me or taking me with you. Your choice," she retaliated.

"I can't leave, not yet. Something is terribly wrong here, some crucial point that I'm missing. I cannot in good conscious leave until I find out exactly what that is. Somehow history is being changed. This entire planet should have been terraformed by now. Before I left here there was peace between the species. The whole planet's ecosystem had been completely transformed from a radioactive wasteland to an Earth-like paradise. According to the readings I obtained from their computer system, it's as if none of that ever happened. Which either means the war never ended and we are standing on an active battleground, or someone won." He moved away from her and stepped towards the shattered chamber, sighing with frustration.

"If my fears are correct, I believe a third party has played a hand at providing one side with an advantage over the other. The upgraded technology in this room alone proves it was not crafted by mankind nor is it of indigenous design. If someone __has__ altered the course of events here, there's no way to know for sure how many other things may have changed as well." He pressed his hands on either side of the chamber's frame and hung his head, completely submerging himself inside his thoughts as if he were drowning in the fear rising from within. He felt the comforting presence of his companion as she came up beside him. He didn't need to read her expression to know she was growing more concerned by his words. He could sense the worry inside of her from an entire galaxy away. Yet the real truth he now faced was just how foolish he felt to have believed this mission they were on would have ensured no resistance. "I need to follow this to the end, Clara. For all I know it may already be too late. But I have to try. If Quynn __is__ behind this, then there's no telling what damage she has already caused to the fabrics of time. She __must__ be stopped."

Clara placed her hand on his shoulder and gently turned him around to face her. "Then we'll do it together. Just like old times." She leaned her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his thin frame.

The Time Lord embraced her caring gesture and held her close to him. He gently ran his fingers through her brown hair and rested his cheek upon her head. "You and your infuriating stubbornness are going to be the death of me, I just know it."

She laughed and held him tight. "By the way, what happened in here?" She took notice of the damaged equipment lying in pieces throughout the area. "Were you _trying_ to blow yourself up again?"

"Very funny. Although I did discover that one should always ask for consent before probing around inside a computer's secured interface. A lesson well learned."

"Sound advice," she teased, immersing herself in his warmth. "So," she started, her eyes meeting his with a curious brow, "who's Jenny?"

Before the Doctor could respond, they were interrupted by a threatening voice from somewhere nearby which took them by surprise. "There they are! Open fire!" the voice commanded. Several armed men suddenly stormed in through the cloud of dust and smoke towards their location, completely blocking their access back to the ship as they took aim. A chain of weapons fire commenced. Their ammunition tore blindly through the fog missing the Doctor and Clara by inches as the bullets ricocheted off the stone walls.

"Run, Clara!" the Doctor screamed, grabbing her hand and bolting deeper into the caverns. The soldiers' footsteps could be heard closing in from behind them.

"I'm starting to think this may have been a mistake!" she admitted, trying to keep up with the pace he had set for them in her weakened state.

"'Just like old times', eh?" He was partially excited yet terrified all at the same time. "I hate soldiers. Don't you hate soldiers?" he smiled, trying to make the best of their current situation.

"Yeah," she agreed, becoming more out of breath the farther they ran.

"Just keep running!" he urged. His hand tightened around hers, fearing one false move could mean the end of them at any moment. Rounding a corner, they noticed the soil beneath their feet had been reinforced with metal flooring. Their footsteps clanked loudly across its surface as they headed towards the next area. The jagged stone walls that once made up the cave had been reconstructed and moulded into a narrow corridor that emptied out into a largely abandoned theatre fitted with a domed ceiling. As the pair of them made their way to the centre of the room, they stopped and peered around for a suitable place to hide. "Over here!" he whispered, pulling her towards a stack of crates near an exit point and ducked down behind them.

Clara took the opportunity of temporary rest to catch her breath. "What was that machine back there? Obviously something important to need this much protection."

"A type of loom, very similar to the technology we used on Gallifrey to produce our own offspring. I have a feeling someone has modified it, possibly to create an army of identical soldiers to win this war between the two species occupying this planet."

"Are you sure? It looked a little small to fit a whole army in there."

"Of course I'm sure! It's the exact same machine that was used on myself to create my daughter Jenny the last time I was here."

"Jenny? __She's__ the non-Gallifreyan child you once told me about?"

"Yes, born by genetic transfer but still of my own flesh and blood."

"Hang on, something doesn't make sense. If you are right about Quynn changing the course of history on this planet, if the war never ended, wouldn't that mean you were never here? And if you were never here then wouldn't that mean Jenny never existed? So why can you still remember her?"

"For the same reason your memories began to resurface back on Trenzalore when they shouldn't have. Because nothing is ever really forgotten so long as you can still remember it."

She opened her mouth to respond but was met with the warm touch of his hand as he covered her mouth to shush her. They watched and waited quietly as the soldiers who had been following them made their way into the room and began to search the area. The troop leader signalled for his men to separate into adjacent paths. The Time Lord and his companion found themselves alone in the room once more, not yet willing to move from the safety of the crates they hid behind. When all was quiet and clear, she pulled his hand from her face and finally spoke.

"So what now? Can we get back to the TARDIS from here?" she whispered.

"Well, we certainly can't go back the way we came, but yes. There is another tunnel that will lead us there. Although they're sure to be guarding the ship in case we try to leave. I don't know about you, but I'm really not in the mood to get shot today."

"You said you've been here before. They must have some kind of weapons room or something around here."

"That's your plan?! You want to charge through them, guns blazing?"

"Do they have one or not, Doctor?" she asked again, becoming more agitated.

"Of course they do, it's a war zone! But there's no way of knowing if it's in the same place. For all I know it could be a broom cupboard now!"

"Which way?" She peered around the crates to locate the surrounding exits.

"Through there," he pointed towards a corridor near them, "but we'll never make it without being seen. It could be heavily guarded."  
She waited until the footsteps of the soldiers had become silent then removed herself from behind the crate. "Right then, let's go," she instructed, heading towards the next corridor.

"Clara! What are you doing?!" he called out to her trying to keep his voice as low as possible, his eyes wide with fear. "Come back here immediately!"

"I'm getting us out of here. Are you coming or not?" She turned to him and waited only a moment before proceeding towards the undiscovered hallway.

"Clara!" he called again. Realizing that she was not planning to come back to him, he quickly left the safety of the crates to follow after her. Her quickened pace made it difficult to keep up with which prevented him from preparing for any possible dangers ahead of them. The next corridor proved much longer than he remembered. As they rounded the corner, they were met by half a dozen armed soldiers stationed at the end of the path. Their weapons were armed and ready to receive them. The events that followed happened so fast he hardly had time to react. His first instinct was to retreat back the way they came. Yet Clara confidentially strode forward as they began to open fire on them. Raising his arms to protect his head from the slew of bullets flying all around them, he continued to scream out her name in the hope she would come back to him. Despite the urgency in his voice, his companion maintained her current course towards the enemy as if she had been possessed - somehow unafraid of the severe possibility of being shot. His hearts and mind raced as she proceeded towards the gunfire as if she were purposely trying to get herself killed. The next door he came by he recognized immediately. Thinking quickly, he used his screwdriver on the handle. The door unlatched and flew open allowing him access inside. Before she could proceed any farther into certain death, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the newly opened room. "Not that way! In here!" he insisted, flinging her inside like a rag doll. Looking back at the soldiers, he aimed his screwdriver above their heads and pressed down on the button. The piping above them burst open and exploded as the gases mixed with the electrical pulse being sent out. The last thing he witnessed before closing the door behind him was the image of screaming bodies flying in all directions as their lives were extinguished in flames.

He entered the room and glared in disbelief at the woman who stood before him. Her eyes refused to meet his. Instead, she focused her attention on the room around them. Her distracted gaze made it clear to him she had no recollection of how she got there. Whatever the reason for her lack of concern over her well-being, the fact she had so determinedly put all three of them in danger enraged him. "Have you gone completely insane, or has pregnancy really made you this recklessly stupid? You could have been killed!"

"What makes you so sure they were aiming for __me__?" Her eyes maintained themselves away from his rage-filled expression.

He watched concernedly as she appeared to ignore his displeasure, becoming more disconnected from him every moment that passed by. Every part of his being wanted to scream and lash out at her outrageous behaviour having led them to their current situation. His temper was unravelling. His hands shook from the adrenaline running through his system after having just murdered several people. He quickly hid his hands in his pockets and tried to calm his mind, looking around the room to distract himself from how irate he felt towards her at that moment. They had indeed found the small armoury as she intended. The walls were thick and barren of any possible way out other than the way they had come. Multiple well-armoured crates had been sorted and stacked in rows along the floor creating a labyrinth of weaponry.

"So, here we are," he announced, facetiously seething in his own sarcasm. "I can't wait to see what else you have in store for us. Though it could be worse. We could be trapped in a small room with only one door while an entire army of soldiers gather reinforcements with the intent to kill us." She remained silent, hugging herself with crossed arms as fresh tears began to build in her eyes. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he was far too angry to allow her emotions to tamper with the thought of what she had done. This time she had gone too far. "Why couldn't you have just stayed on the ship? I told you not to leave. I had everything handled without you putting yourself directly in danger. Your job was to monitor the situation from inside the ship and if necessary take the TARDIS far away from here. What were you even thinking?! Do you have any idea how furious I am with you?!"

"Are you sure it's really me you're angry with?" She glanced his way, her eyes connecting to his with fierce intention. "You and I both know those soldiers bore Quynn's insignia, which means her reach spans farther than we even realized. She isn't just building up her armies, she's changing the course of history as you and I know it. What if she reaches Earth? What if she enslaves the entire human race? What if there really is no stopping her?"

"Do you honestly think I haven't thought of that? That I haven't been doing everything in my power to prevent her from becoming even stronger?" His anger grew rapidly as he spoke. The more he tried to control it the harder it was to keep contained. She was testing his patience in more ways than one.

"What if it isn't enough? What if she can't be beaten? What if we're already too late?"

"Forgive me. I must have forgotten how many wars you've fought in, how many armies you've commanded, how many innocent lives you've witnessed parish at the hands of an enemy much stronger than yourself yet somehow still prevailed. You wouldn't know real sacrifice if it slapped you in the face! You cannot imagine what it's like to have lost everything, to have done __everything__ you could to save the lives of the people who count on you the most."

"Not everything," she noted, running her fingers along the surface of the crate in front of her. With the other hand, she undid the latch holding the crate closed and lifted the lid. Inside were a series of enhanced pistols, the clips loaded and ready for combat. She carefully lifted one from its holster and examined its intricate design in front of her.

"Clara, what are you doing?" he asked as a strange feeling of nervousness crept up from within him.

Her eyes met his again. Though her expression seemed almost apologetic in nature, there was also a sense of confidence and serenity he had never seen before. "What I have to do." She instinctively released the safety from the weapon, its capabilities now fully armed and ready to fire. "All this time the answer has been staring us right in the face, yet you've refused to admit it. You've been so blinded by trying to save us that you couldn't see the solution right in front of you."

"Clara, whatever you think you're doing-"

"I know __exactly__ what I'm doing, Doctor," she interrupted. Her calm demeanour did little to cease the rising distress growing inside of him. "I'm making the choice you could not. I'm saving us." She slowly brought the gun to her head and placed the barrel next to her temple.

His emotions fluctuated between sheer panic and shock at the sight of her actions. "Stop this at once! Have you gone mad?! What's gotten into you-?" he stopped himself, suddenly recalling his unborn daughter's warnings of his companion's terribly dark secrets as they flashed into his mind. He had seen the pain thriving inside of her yet had not known the depths of how far she would be willing to go. The guilt of not being able to cure her overwhelmed him. He could feel his time was running out. If he did not find a way to bring her back to him he may lose her forever. "Ah, I understand now. So this was all part of your plan, was it? To fool me into bringing you here? This was never about wanting to help me defeat Quynn. You needed me to present the opportunity for you because you couldn't do it alone. How long have you been planning this?"

"Since eighteen sixty-five. Since the moment you discovered Quynn was our daughter. The more I realized how powerful she was becoming the more I knew there was only one way to stop her before more people fell victim to her wrath. After Danny died that feeling became even stronger. The darkness inside of me has only been growing, it's only a matter of time before it takes over completely. I knew you'd never allow any harm to come to myself or the baby even if the entire universe was burning all around us. Can't you see? Missy has finally succeeded in finding your weakness and using it against you. The only way to stop them both is to beat them at their own game." Her hand began to tremble as her finger secured itself upon the trigger.

"Clara, please. Don't do this."

"You said so yourself, we could be trapped inside this cyclical hell forever. How many times do you think we've been through this? How many times have we tried to stop her and failed? You can feel it, can't you? I didn't understand what it was before, but now I know. That feeling growing in the back of your mind that somehow you know you've done this all before but you can't explain it. That's how I feel all the time. It's the feeling of living inside a never-ending nightmare." Tears began to stream down her face as the memory of her vivid dreams started to surface from their secured place in her mind. "If our daughter's only reason for existing is to one day bring us together to conceive her so she could bring terror upon the universe for all of eternity, then this is the only way I can see out of it."

"There's no guarantee this will even work, no way to know how far back the timeline may reset. It could cause time to completely collapse on itself, or nothing could happen and you'd just be dead. Are you really willing to take that risk?"

"Yes," she admitted with such confidence it terrified him down to his core. "I'd be willing to do whatever it took to stop her, even if it meant I'd die. What's one life worth compared to the billions I could be saving?"

"More than I am willing to give up." He risked taking a step towards her. In her startled reaction to his movement, she stepped back from him, a look of warning flashed upon her face. His hearts beat faster than they ever had before. He'd rather be standing in front of an army of Cybermen or surrounded by Daleks than be facing the stand-off he was currently in between himself and his friend. "I'm begging you, do not do this. We'll find another way. We've come so far already." He held out his shaking hands in a peaceful gesture and took another step towards her as his world began to crash down all around him. He was so scared of what she was about to do he found it difficult to breathe. He could barely hear anything over the sound of his own hearts pounding in his chest. He tried to remain calm, yet his entire body began to tremble as he drew closer towards her. "How can you possibly ask this of me, to just stand here and allow you to murder yourself and our child right in front of me?" He could no longer control the tears forcing their way out over the thought of them dying by her hands. He was being torn apart. All the bravery and courage he had held inside of him for so long had precipitously vanished leaving him alone with the frightened child-like innocence that remained. "I've already lost more than I can even bear. Please, don't leave me here all alone," he begged with every ounce of his being as he dropped to his knees in front of her and buried his sobbing face in his hands.

The sight of her best friend's crumpled form before her was unbearable. Her tears continued to fall as she contemplated everything she was doing. She had never been more scared than she was right at that moment. Yet deep down she knew she couldn't allow him to cause her to doubt what she felt was their only option left. If there was any hope of releasing herself from her fate, she would have to be the stronger one. "You take more risks than anyone I've ever known. Tell me why I can't be like you? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do this. If there's even a chance we could escape this, why shouldn't I take it?" she asked, gripping the pistol even tighter.

The Doctor lifted his head from his hands and allowed his tears to fall openly, finally exposing all of his weaknesses in front of her. He had come to terms with the thought that if this was truly what she wanted to do, if this was the last time he'd ever see her again, then there was no reason he could possibly think of to continue to keep his feelings a secret any longer. He would never be able to live with himself if he allowed her to die without ever knowing how he truly felt about her. If their friendship must end, then it would be on his own terms. There was only one thing left to do. One remaining ace up his sleeve he had been saving for the right moment. And there was no greater time than right now. "Because... I'm in love with you, Clara."

She felt almost light-headed as if she had been holding her breath. His confession both startled and surprised her. Unsure if she had simply imagined his words due to the emotional state she had put herself through or if he genuinely declared what she thought he had, she finally spoke. "What did you say?" she asked, almost frightened of the answer.

"I'm in love with you," he confirmed. "I always have been. My face may have changed but how I feel about you has never faltered. From the very first moment I heard your voice to this moment right here right now, I always have and always will love you. You are my impossible soufflé girl, the mother of my child, the woman about to make me the happiest man in the entire universe by giving birth our daughter, and I love you more deeply every day that passes for it." He looked into her eyes and bore his hearts to her in the hope she'd truly understand how he felt. "Please, don't take that away from me."

Her grip on the pistol loosened as a river of tears came streaming down her face. Her heart was tearing apart as his words began to sink into her soul. The feelings she'd been denying and pushing away since his last body had finally felt validation after all this time. Yet a bigger part of her was so very angry with him for daring to spare her from how he truly felt until this very moment. "Damn you, Doctor," she cursed his entire existence both in mind and spirit. "Why tell me this now?"

"Because I'm afraid of what I will become without you," he professed. His inner thoughts were spilling out uncontrollably as he finally released everything he had been holding back from revealing to anyone. "If you died, I would spend every waking moment making sure our enemies had paid for what they have done. There would be no rest until I had rained hell upon every last one of them. I would break all of my own rules, I'd risk all of time and space, I'd let the stars burn, I'd watch as entire worlds collapsed on themselves while billions of voices screamed out in agony. I'd give up all of who I am if it meant you'd live."

His shocking confession bewildered her which prevented her from determining if there was any actual truth behind his words or if he was simply spewing idle threats merely out of desperation. "I don't believe you. Your reign of terror would end with the sight of the first crying child and you know it."

"No, I don't," he admitted. "None of you have any idea what I am truly capable of. Or did you really believe Quynn was the worst thing to have happened to anyone? You've never known true horror until you've seen a Time Lord on a quest for revenge. There would be no stopping me, nothing to hold me back from myself. There would be more suffering than you can even imagine. The universe has every right to fear me, as it should."

For the first time she found herself truly frightened of him. She had never heard him speak in such a way before. It was as if the man she had come to know and love had completely gone leaving her alone within the presence of his inner demons. "If that's true, then Quynn was right. There really __is__ a monster hiding inside of you."  
A new sense of humiliation and shame in himself overwhelmed him at the harshness of her words. He felt defeated and powerless against the truth behind them as he fell forward onto his hands and braced his sobbing form at her feet. "Help me, Clara. I'm begging you. Don't let me become that man."

She stared down at the fallen Time Lord below her as her emotions shattered into a million pieces. She realized he was right, there was so much more at stake for the universe than what Quynn had in store for it. If this plan didn't work, she would be responsible for unleashing all the horrors within him no matter who stood in his way. There would be no one to stop him from himself. No one left to remind him how to care for the lives of others. Everything she had ever accomplished with him would be in vain as he chose the path of destruction over being who he needed to be. The thought of how important her life was for the survival of the entire universe was overwhelming. She had lost herself in thought. Her once trembling hand holding the weapon to her temple had long since calmed. She slowly lowered it back towards the crate and released it from her grasp. Glancing towards her fallen friend, she knelt down in front of him and ran her fingers through his silver hair in an attempt to comfort him as he continued to sob in her presence.

He raised his head at her soothing touch, his eyes filled with tears as they instinctively met with hers. The emotion contained within her expression as she looked to him was unmistakable, he had seen it only once before in his last body. It could only be described as the look of undeniable love and compassion. His hands found their way to her waist as he gently rested his head against her belly and took in her warmth for all it was worth. The child fluttered and kicked from within her at his touch. His hands pressed carefully on either side of her as he experienced the sensation of movement within his palms. His hearts nearly burst with affection for her and her mother as they embraced each other. "I love you both so very much. Please, don't take her away from me," he pleaded to her with every last drop of emotion he had left inside of his furrowed old body.

The love he displayed for them at that moment disarmed her from within as she gently wrapped her arms around him and cradled his head in her hands. She knew there would be no turning back now. Whatever their fate may be only one thing was certain, they would face it together. "Well, old man," she carefully tilted his head to meet her gaze. "What's your plan for getting us out of here?"

* * *

Works Cited

"The Bells of Saint John." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Colm McMarthy, season 7, episode 6, BBC One, 30 March 2013.

"Dark Water." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 11, BBC One, 1 November 2014.

"Before the Flood." _Doctor Who_ , written by Toby Whithouse, directed by Daniel O'Hara, season 9, episode 4, BBC One, 10 October 2015.

"The Doctor's Daughter." _Doctor Who_ , written by Stephen Greenhorn, directed by Alice Troughton, season 4, episode 6, BBC One, 10 May 2008.

"Clara and the TARDIS." _Doctor Who Home Video_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Jamie Stone, BBC, 24 September 2013.

"The Caretaker." _Doctor Who_ , written by Gareth Roberts and Steven Moffat, directed by Paul Murphy, season 8, episode 6, BBC One, 27 September 2014.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

There was a hollow emptiness inside the ghostly silent walls of the TARDIS main control room as if the once vibrant feel of her living existence had been disabled and completely abandoned. The red interior lights continued to flash as the ship's current stasis remained in the same state of emergency power it had last been left in. The gel-like material of her telepathic interface steadily palpitated with energy providing a direct link from the Doctor's own beating hearts to the TARDIS internal medical scanners. Prior to his departure, its primary function had been set to remotely monitor his pulse outside the safety of the ship in the event his life had become unexpectedly eliminated, ultimately dematerializing herself to a new predetermined destination. As she sat idling in her own mechanic lull, overseeing the uniquely rhythmical melody of his life force, her interface detected an unexpected rise in palpitations as each beat of his hearts began to rapidly accelerate. Her safe-guards deactivated, she was unable to determine what possible dangers could have caused such an adjustment to his emotional state. The living machine laid still and quiet with attentive anticipation in the singular hope her Time Lord would soon return to her unharmed. The only thing left for her to do was wait.

Suddenly her door burst open from the outside as the Doctor rushed abruptly through the threshold of his long-time vessel and kicked the door closed behind him. His body was pumped with adrenaline while his breath struggled to catch up. In his tired arms he carried his unconscious companion tightly to his chest. Her arm dangled down beside her thin frame as the look of absolute panic covered her rescuer's face. The jumper and jacket she had last been seen wearing before leaving the ship were now soaked in her own blood. A red stream ran down her hand and dripped onto the metal flooring.

"Medical analysis! Now!" he commanded as he hurried across the grated floor carrying his best friend's lifeless body towards the centre of the large room. He quickly headed for the work table and gently laid her atop his drafted battle plans. The ship's internal medical scanners activated as instructed and began to scan her motionless body, the results being promptly uploaded onto the view-screen. He pulled his arms out from underneath her and bolted towards the console. With his blood-stained hands, he brought the screen down to determine the prognosis. The images were beyond concerning. His hearts felt as if they had dropped from his chest into the pit of his stomach. Where there should have been three distinct heartbeats, there were only two. Though very faint, the child still lived within her. As for Clara, she had not been so fortunate. The readings showed she had suffered a direct trauma to the upper right side of her chest and had been killed shortly after impact. He stared in disbelief at the screen in front of him. The images of the events leading back to the ship flashed into his mind as if he were trapped inside of his own nightmare.

 _"_ _ _Run, Clara!" he called to her as he barricaded himself behind the opened armoury door and protected her so she could escape from within. Heavy gunfire suddenly filled the narrow corridor originating from the new brigade of soldiers. Their bullets fanned out in all directions with intent to eliminate the serious threat they now faced. The continuous sound of metal clanking upon metal rung in his ears as the bullets ricocheted off the armoured door in front of him. He leaned back against it and watched as Clara made it safely around the corner. His pounding hearts sent a pulsating wave through every extremity in his body. His breath was heavy and rapid while he continued to hold the soldiers' attention on himself.__

 _ _He closed his eyes. The gears in his head spun wildly as they analysed the exact distance from his position to the corner of the next corridor. He calculated the number of seconds it would take to reach safety, there would be only one chance at success - failure was not an option. Five. He concentrated on drafting an exact replica of the dimensions around him by creating a blueprint of the space in his mind, making certain to utilize every detail of the area as a possible tactic for survival. Four. He tallied the number of bullets flying by, the capacity of the ammunition clips, the time it took the soldiers to reload. Three. He gauged the exact moment in which there would be the lowest probability of being killed. Two. And then, as if all the planets had been aligned with one another, as if millions of singing birds had suddenly gone quiet at the same time, he opened his eyes. Not unlike the calming before the storm, his window of opportunity had finally come. It was now or never. One.__ __A surge of confidence swept over him as he released himself from the safety of the armoured door and faced the soldiers man to man.  
__

 _ _Surprised by his sudden appearance, the soldiers held their fire as their brigade leader ordered the old man's surrender.__ _"_ _ _Abandon any weapons you may be carrying and submit yourself into our custody!" he barked towards the strangely dressed silver-haired man.__

 _ _The Time Lord grinned and passively brought his arms out to either side of him. "Do you have any idea who I am? The ridiculous look on your faces suggests you haven't a single clue as to what you are dealing with. Allow me to enlighten you. I'm the oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness, the shadow on the wall that keeps you awake at night. Look up the greatest cause of death in the fatality index and you'll find me. I'm the one they call to kill the monsters. I'm the Doctor. As long as I stand between you and all that I have sworn to protect, you will never know the taste of victory. Not today, nor any other." He paused to observe the confused faces glancing at each other as if trying to determine amongst themselves how serious he was. "Well," he continued, casually sticking his hands into his pockets, "now that we've been properly introduced, I'd expect you'll want to throw down your weapons and retreat. I'll give you a moment to think it over. But do be quick about it, I'm in a bit of a hurry."__

 _ _The brigade leader took a moment to study the unusual man. A man so vastly outnumbered both in allies and in firepower. Where the old man lacked in weaponry he surely made up for with his sly-tongued wit. A desperate move perhaps, but not desperate enough to spare him from an executive order issued by his commanding officer. He raised his arm to alert his men of his decision. "Resume fire!" he commanded. His soldiers lifted their weapons again and fired upon their target with newfound accuracy, unloading clip after clip of ammunition down the long and narrow corridor. Though their bullets flew true like a swarm of locusts on a path of destruction towards their enemy, they passed right through him as if he were made of air. Like a phantom in the night. As they continued to fire their rounds, they were bewildered by the fact their target had remained unharmed. He seemed unphased by their assault, and rather annoyed. Their commander, stunned by the man still standing before them, raised his hand again and ordered a cease-fire. An awkward silence fell over the brigade as their disbelief in what they had just witnessed finally set in. Even the least superstitious of the group was convinced they were dealing with some form of sorcery.__

 _ _"You__ _ _know," the Doctor started, brushing the debris off his suit, "you should really consider keeping your spare holodisks in a much safer place. Any idiot with a screwdriver could just walk right through here and tamper with them." He pulled a round object from his breast pocket and twirled it around in his hand. He smiled at their startled faces, then hovered a finger over the small circular remote. "Now, let's see how well you do in the dark, shall we?" He aimed the remote towards them and pressed down on its surface. His holo-likeness flickered then disappeared as the armoury door closed to reveal the real Doctor hidden behind it. In one hand he held the holodisk remote and in the other, now raised towards a grey electrical box on the wall, was his screwdriver. Before the brigade could react, the Time Lord activated his weapon of choice and flooded the hallway with its signature high-pitched humming. The lights all around them suddenly began to glow intensely bright before bursting apart one by one. The soldiers shielded their eyes from the blinding light as the bulbs shattered on top of them. The fuses inside the grey box blew from the enormous surge of energy and engulfed the entire base in absolute darkness. Before the back-up generators could switch to emergency power, the Doctor, having memorized every path, bolted towards the direction of his fleeing companion leaving the blinded soldiers far behind him.__

The view-screen displayed the most frightening combination of red letters upon its surface he had ever seen. The words " _Status: DECEASED_ " flashed below Clara's name and species which entirely destroyed him on the inside. The Doctor stepped back from the console, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the screen. His hands were pressed to the sides of his head as if he were losing his mind. "No, it's all wrong. It isn't true." He finally broke himself away from his petrified state, heading back around to Clara's side to stare down at her fallen form. Frightened tears began to build in his eyes as he held onto the only sanity he had left in order to remain calm and calculated. "Run it again," he ordered the machine. The TARDIS clattered sympathetically in response to his command. "Don't you dare apologize to me!" he shouted towards the rings above him. "This is _your_ fault, you were supposed to keep her safe! She was under our protection!" His words were harsh and unforgiving as he screamed at the vessel, the expression in his eyes being torn between rage and devastation. "I refuse to just stand here doing nothing but watch as she dies on this table! I've lost far too many people I've loved in my lifetime, I will not lose another. Now do as you are told and RUN IT AGAIN!"

The ship reluctantly re-scanned the female's body. Her understanding of emotion derived entirely from what she had learned in her experiences with the Doctor. She understood what love meant as she did love her Time Lord very much. She understood jealousy as often as he had brought companion after companion on board. But this, this was something she wasn't sure she knew the correct emotion for. By allowing Clara to leave the safety of her walls, she had betrayed his trust. Her jealousy had gotten in the way of her objective and the promise she made to protect the mother of his child. The only word to describe how she felt and would have expressed had she a body of her own again would have resembled guilt. The same feeling of guilt now overwhelming her systems as she displayed the results of the second scan on-screen. There had been no change in her diagnosis. As much as she wanted the scan to be wrong, there was no denying Clara was dead.

The Doctor became hysteric over the unchanged results regarding his companion's death as he grasped her hand in his and pressed it to his beating hearts. She was so beautiful to him even in death he could not believe his own eyes at the sight of her. Her skin was still warm and soft to the touch as it always had been. Shaking the thought that all had been lost from his mind, he refused to believe there was nothing more that could be done for her. That maybe there was still a chance he could save her. "C'mon Clara, don't do this to me!" He called out as he carefully rolled her on her side, quickly removed the blood-covered jacket from her body and returned her to her back. Tossing the jacket aside, he began to tear apart the seams of her jumper to better understand the severity of the wound in which he was dealing with. Setting his gentlemanly discretion of her exposed form aside, he assessed the damage to Clara's chest. The bullet had penetrated through the right side several centimetres below her collar bone and exited out the other side. The memory of what had happened to her forced its way back into his thoughts.

 _ _He rounded the corner, the sight of her just ahead of him was all he could think about as he closed the distance between them. Catching up to her, he slipped his hand into hers and took the lead, nearly dragging her behind him. Clara's other hand cradled below her middle for support as she struggled to keep up with him. Every muscle in her body was rapidly tiring as she pushed herself to continue on. The corridor once again emptied out into the large theatrical room they had found themselves in before. A large old fashioned chandelier hung low beneath the domed ceiling, clinging to the last reaming link still strong enough to bare its weight. As they headed for the adjacent corridor leading back to the ship, they suddenly stopped in their tracks as a lone soldier made his way into the room from the direction in which they were fleeing. His weapon armed and precautionarily aimed towards them, he silently motioned for them to step back using the barrel of his rifle like a cattle prod. Clara's grip on the Doctor's arm tightened as they were forced backward towards the wall. He protectively pressed his hand on her belly and shielded her behind him.__

 _ _"We intend you no harm.__ _ _Just let us go and we'll leave quietly. No one else has to die here today," he pleaded, cautiously removing his hand from her middle to raise it peacefully in front of him. The soldier, ignoring the old man's words, raised the weapon's sight into view and placed his finger upon the trigger. The Doctor suddenly became an unwilling participant in a dangerous altercation between himself and the soldier as if they were engaged in a high-noon duel. He could feel a bead of sweat trail down his brow as his mind calculated his next course of action. Thinking quickly, he raised his screwdriver high above the soldier's head and pressed the button. The results severed the remaining link still barely attached to the chandelier. The link sparked as it shattered, releasing the heavy decoration from its loosened grasp and sent it crashing down below. The soldier, sensing his death upon him, glanced up towards the falling object as it barrelled down on top of him. His last act of desperation before being impaled by the unsuspecting ornament caused him to fire off a round before crumpling to the ground to meet his untimely demise. The bullet flew through the air hitting its target in the chest. The impact forced a gasp from her lips as it penetrated her body. The pain was so fierce at first, and then less and less as her legs finally gave out from underneath her.__

Having cleared off a space next to the table, the frightened Time Lord flipped over the TARDIS emergency medical bag he had retrieved from down below the console and frantically dumped its contents out from within. His shaking hands searched thoroughly for specific items essential in his attempt to revive his fallen companion. Among the items sprawled out in front of him, he located several sealed silver packages and began ripping them open to reveal a stack of colourful medical patches. A gift from his adventures on New Earth, the patches were very similar in design to the Gallifreyan healing bandages he once used in his early days on the TARDIS. Only these were at least a thousand years more advanced and far superior. Removing the outer paper from its adhesive backing, he delicately placed the ointment-soaked patch over the damaged flesh then repeated the process at the exit wound.

He tried to remain calm as his hands fumbled around the dismay of medical equipment until they came upon a cylindrical metal object. More specifically, a type of medically advanced hypodermic syringe housing thousands of self-activating nano-robotically engineered organisms. He removed it from its casing and flicked the centre chamber. The sensation of relief passed through him as the liquid inside began to react to the sudden disturbance. With his free hand, he applied significant pressure to the centre of Clara's chest, his fingers feeling around her sternum and ribs in search of where her heart would be. Finally locating it, he raised the syringe above his head and closed his fist tightly around it. A heavy sigh escaped him as he steadied every muscle in his shaking body. He cleared his mind of all doubt to concentrate on the hope he would be able to hear her voice again, to feel the warmth he felt in his hearts at the way she smiled at him once more. Once calm, he glanced apologetically towards his companion's solemn face.  
"Forgive me," he said aloud, compiling all the strength he had left towards aiming true. Taking a deep breath, he confidentially thrust down upon her like a hammer. The syringe struck her chest plate with a powerful thud as it penetrated through to her heart. He quickly released the valve, evicting the contents of the chamber directly into her body. Once empty, he pulled the needle out of her chest then quickly backed away from her and allowed the syringe to fall from his grasp onto the floor. As if waiting for some miraculous performance to dramatize before him, he was severely disheartened when nothing happened.

 _"_ _ _NO!" he screamed out in horror as he scrambled to collect his companion before she fell to the ground. Catching her, he carefully brought her down across his lap and cradled her limp body in his arms. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Fresh tears streamed down her face as she struggled to bring air to her lungs.__

 _ _"Doctor," she whispered, her eyes searching for his as the light began to fade from her vision.__

 _ _"Shhh.__ _ _I'm here, Clara. You're going to be alright, I've got you," he soothed her. He gently brushed the strands of hair from her face and wiped her tears away so he could see her in every detail. He forced himself to remain as calm as he could so as not reveal how truly terrified he was. The fear inside of him grew more intense as he lifted the front of her jacket to discover how quickly the blood was soaking through the layers of her clothing.__

 _ _"I'm s__ _ _o sorry, Doctor," she managed a last confession to him before exhaling her final breath. Her eyes, the very same that had undeniably influenced even the most secured emotions inside of him since the moment they first connected to his had now closed. Her head fell to the side as the darkness began to claim her as one of its own.__

 _ _"No, no, no!__ _ _Stay with me, Clara!" he cried out, trying to shake the life back into her again. "Not like this, don't let it end like this." She remained unresponsive at his attempt to revive her. "Come back to me, Clara. Don't leave me here all alone. Please, don't do this to me!" He felt his hearts shatter as he wept, his tears soaking into her jumper. Holding her close to him, he rocked her back and forth as he buried his sobs into her chest. "Please, I can't do this without you," he pleaded with all of his being. Lifting his head once again, he gazed at her as if hoping it was all just a bad dream. That at any moment he would suddenly awaken from this nightmare to find her alive and well by his side. When she did not stir in his grasp, the reality that she was truly gone from this world caused the devastation and rage inside of him to erupt as he screamed out in agony.__

"No. This, this isn't happening. This can't be happening." He tried to push the images out of his mind as he cradled his head in his hands and attempted to compose his crazed emotions. He frantically paced between his companion and the console with such ferocity he could have burned a hole in the metal flooring. He sensed the mania inside of him beginning to boil and fester as he slipped further away from sanity. The longer it took for the nanobots to do their job the more he felt the loss of control over himself. The beast inside of him was awakening with each moment that passed. "What's taking so long!?" he screamed aloud as if expecting some kind of response from somewhere inside the silence he was surrounded by. After a moment, the TARDIS finally spoke her mind, clattering her thoughts to him. "No, you're wrong! It's not too late. There's still time, we haven't lost her yet," he refuted. Approaching Clara's side once more, he interlaced his fingers between hers. Raising her hand to his lips, he lovingly kissed the surface of her soft skin. Each second that passed pushed him deeper into despair. "C'mon, Clara. Don't let it take you, fight it!"

 _ _A symphony of noises resonated off the stone walls of the cave as the Time Lord hurried to make his way back to the ship holding his companion's body in his arms. His shoes tapped heavily across the grated metal flooring. His tired breath was rapid yet productive as he gathered all of his remaining strength and energy to get her safely to their destination. The murmured voices of soldiers could be heard from far behind him as they closed in on his location. Their metal boots clanked in rhythm with each of their footsteps. The floor once again became soil as he ran farther into the cave. "We're nearly there, Clara," he whispered to her in the hope there was still a part of her that could hear him. "Just hang on a little longer."__

 _ _At last he reached the end of the tunnel as it opened up into the familiar scenery they had first arrived in. The welcomed sight of the TARDIS could be seen only a few meters away as he headed for it as fast as his body would allow him to. His sanctuary so close to him now, he could feel the connection he shared with its interface intensifying with each new step in its direction. His hearts felt as if they were bursting from his chest, the adrenaline pulsated through his veins. Though his mission to get her onto the ship had taken priority in his mind, he suddenly realized the severity of his mistake in having dismissed his own previous concerns as two soldiers came around from behind the TARDIS to block his path.__

 _ _He halted dead in his tracks. The sound of the brigade closing in from behind him confirmed they were now trapped. He had not planned for this. As much as he wanted there to be, there was no vision of quick escape in his mind this time around. He was defenceless. Like a sitting duck in open water, he was surrounded and without the means to protect either one of them. The sense of defeat and disappointment in himself was so terrifying and powerful it forced him to his knees in surrender. As the soldiers lifted their weapons to take aim at the unwelcome intruders, the Doctor sighed and glanced down at his beautiful companion. If this was how he must go, at least he would die knowing the last image he saw before fading from existence would be the face of the woman he loved. He braved a small smile towards her though he knew she could not see it. His eyes begged for forgiveness, not only due to his inability to protect her and their child but for not being able to prevent the harm that had been done to them. He knew he had allowed her to become far too reckless, he should have taken better care of her. He had failed her. And yet, as he looked upon her for the final time, none of that seemed to matter to him anymore. The only thing they had left of each other was this one last moment together.__

 _ _"Well,"__ _ _he addressed the soldiers, having come to terms with the inevitability of his fate, "get on with it then." The sound of readying rifles was the last thing he heard before closing his eyes to accept what was coming to him. The mere seconds remaining between living and dead were never more apparent than they were right then. For most species, those few final seconds of life came more quickly as their small brains had not yet processed what was about to happen to them. For a Time Lord, well, they had been known to experience every millisecond before their death as if each one were an eternity. Although for him, right in that very moment, those few seconds between his own certain death seemed to span on longer than he had anticipated. As the time ticked on, he wondered if he had already died. As if he had skipped the pain and suffering he would have felt as the weapons fired upon him and gone straight into eternal darkness. Though a deafening silence filled his ears, he felt certain his body was somehow still alive, that his consciousness was still intact.__

 _ _Fearing the worst, he opened his eyes. Looking around, he almost expected to find himself in some sort of unfavourable afterlife, one that had been waiting patiently all his long life to finally receive him. But what he saw was not what he expected. He was still inside the cavern. The TARDIS sat just a few paces from his defeated form. Clara's body still rested limply in his arms as he tightly clung to her. But even more strange than that was the voices originating from the oncoming brigade behind him had all been silenced. The two soldiers that had marked him for death had vanished without a trace. There was not a sound to be heard aside from his own gasp at the altered situation he had found himself a part of.__

 _ _Was this his hell, he wondered? He struggled to stand with the weight of her in his arms and circled around his position as the confusion began to set in. In all the years he had spent circumventing the universe, meeting new species, escaping certain death, and overcoming even the most challenging of situations, there was one thing he knew he could always count on. His intuition. There was always an explanation for everything so long as he was patient and willing enough to see it through. His instincts urged him to run as fast as he could towards the safety of the TARDIS and never look back. Yet his mind yearned for a deeper understanding of what was happening. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed something of a most unusual nature beginning to form around him. The cavern walls, once dreary and unflattering in colour, were now taking on a more vibrant shade as a heavy moss spread over every surface like a virus. Strange new species of flora began to spring from the cracks in the stones. The once maddening silence engulfing his surroundings had been replaced by the distinctive sound of water rushing from somewhere nearby, a river or waterfall perhaps. Within seconds, the cave had metamorphosed from a barren and desolate abyss into a subterranean oasis.__

 _ _Having allowed himself several moments to analyse the new changes, it all finally started to make sense. He had been through something similar to this before. How could he have possibly forgotten what had happened to him back on Trenzalore? After the Great Intelligence altered his timeline, entire historic events began to disappear from both the past and the future. Every life he had ever saved, every planet he had ever protected, every one of his successes had been turned to failures as his existence was being erased from all of history. And it was happening again, right before his very eyes. Only it wasn't his own timeline being altered, it was his daughter's. Whatever damage Quynn had done to the fabrics of the universe was being repaired as time was beginning to rewrite itself. This planet was now in the process of terraforming back to the way it had been when he last left it, and he finally realized why as his eyes passed over Clara's dying form. He was losing her.__

 _ _"It's starting,__ _ _Clara. We're running out of__ _ _time."__

As he continued to pace back and forth at the end of the table, the TARDIS' telepathically composed opinion of his companion's unfortunate fate echoed through his mind. What if she was right? What if it was too late? Although he fought to keep those dreaded thoughts from consuming him, a part of him feared that Clara really was beyond saving. The bitter-sweet nature of their situation had never been more discernible to him than it was right at that moment. If his beloved companion was indeed lost to him, his contractual obligation to Missy would be nullified. Though Missy could never be trusted to keep up her end of the bargain, she would no longer have collateral to hold against him. There would be nothing to stop him from the wrath he was bound to unleash if she ever dared to take his child from him. As confident as he was in believing himself to be a far greater challenge than Missy could have ever anticipated, there was a much more pressing matter to attend to. If the TARDIS was correct in her accusations, if Clara really couldn't be saved, then maybe there was still a chance he could save their daughter before he lost them both forever. By sparing his child from death, he could be exposing the opportunity to liberate every person that had ever been enslaved by her. All the damage and suffering she had caused would cease to be. He could raise her as she should have been, be a father once more. As praiseworthy as it would have been to be responsible for altering the fabrics of time, it would all be in vain as he knew his Clara would not be there to see it. No matter what he did, she would still be gone.

Approaching her side once again, he placed his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands, becoming consumed in thought. He knew what he had to do but it required a set of skills that greatly surpassed anything he had ever done before. Being the Doctor was just the title he claimed, the name he chose as a promise to himself, not an actual medical occupation. He didn't know the first thing about emergency deliveries nor the gestation period of a human and Time Lord pregnancy. What if it was too early? What if the child didn't survive the procedure? At the moment, he wasn't equipped with the necessary tools to incubate a premature infant nor felt confident in his capabilities to nurture her back to health outside of her mother's womb. Even if he knew of somewhere he could take her, it was far too dangerous. There was no way to know how many planets remained loyal to Quynn's command, how many spies she had working for her throughout the galaxy on the lookout for a man in a blue box. Their location could be revealed, news of an infant Gallifreyan child would certainly spread to every corner of the universe. She would never be safe. There was no one he could trust. But time was running out for them both. A decision had to be made, and quickly.

Turning his head, he looked to his companion one last time. His mind was clouded in remorse, distraught by the knowledge that he had suffered a great loss in the battle against his enemies. They had taken something from him that could never be replaced. Clara had become the only real family he had left, and now she was gone. Even greater was the sense of discontent he felt towards himself by allowing his internal anguish to control his actions. By trying to save Clara he would be effectively reversing the healing of time. The damage that had been done would once again be restored as it continued to spread throughout the course of history. He realized that in his selfishness, he would rather spend all of eternity forever trapped inside this never-ending paradox so he'd always have her in his life than face the reality of her death. He would risk all the laws of the universe for her, even if it robbed her of her own free will. The monster inside of him had finally found a way out, its claws dug deeper than he ever could have imagined.

"Oh, Clara. My Clara. What have I done?" he sighed, internally battling with himself over the morality of his actions. "If only you were here with me now, I know exactly what you'd say. You'd tell me that I'm an idiot, to stop moping about. That this whole plan to save you is rubbish. That I need to move on, death is an inevitability. Keep my chin up, be the Doctor. Yes yes, I know. Always the teacher, always a duty of care, always right." He reached towards her, his hand caressing her cheek in his palm. "I'm so sorry, Clara. I never meant for this to happen," he confessed as the tears built up in his eyes. "I swear to you I will do everything in my power to make this right." His other hand pressed carefully on her belly, preparing himself for what was to come. Where he would have expected to feel some kind of sign that the child was still alive, any small movement to set his mind at ease, he felt only stillness. As the rate of her beating hearts began to decline, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would be gone as well. "I promise to love her, to protect her, to keep her safe. She'll always know of her mother's bravery and the care she had for the lives of others. So long as I live, your memory will never be forgotten." He took a moment to compose his devastation and despair, forcing his tears away. There was no room in his mind for woe and self-pity. Now was the time for him to once again become a man of action.

His eyes focused on the disarray of equipment still sprawled out on the makeshift medical table in front of him. Of the remaining useful items to select from was a leather-bound surgical kit. He untied the strings allowing the kit to unroll and expose the items housed within it. It was all that could be expected of a surgeon's collection of medical necessities; a series of differently sized scalpels, scissors, clamps, gauze, thread, and suture needles to name a few. As he looked upon the intimidating objects, his fingers grazing over the surface of the sharpened metal, he asked himself if he was actually considering going through with this. If he did there would be no going back, and if he didn't he would lose them both. Either way, there would be no escaping the consequences of his decision.

He carefully chose one of the razor-edged instruments from its secured place and examined it more closely. The reflection shining off its smooth surface was barely even recognizable to him anymore. The face that stared back at him belonged to a man he wasn't certain he knew any longer. He hesitantly pressed his trembling hand against her belly to locate their baby's position so as not to harm her. Once confident he had found her, he took a deep breath and concentrated every nerve he could spare to remain as still as possible as he brought the blade just below his companion's abdomen. His mind had become his greatest tormentor as the images of his fondest memories of her began to flash into his thoughts. He recalled the advice she had once given him as a child when he had lost himself on the quest to find her. He remembered the most important leaf in all of history that had led to her existence. The way her eyes lit up each time they found themselves on a new adventure. But most of all, he would always remember her infectious smile, her impeccable cleverness whenever the moment called for it, her unparalleled charm, how equally matched her stubbornness was to his own, and, of course, her many sacrifices.

The agony he felt from the visions of her caused his own severe hesitation and self-doubt to completely possess him. He became inhibited by its hold over him, conceding his grasp on the scalpel and allowing it to fall from his hand. "I can't. I can't do it, Clara." His cowardice was enough to make even the most prideful of men feel ashamed. He knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the will of the virus inside of him. He had finally lost all control in his ability to think rational thoughts. He was no longer able to hear the voice of reason inside his mind through the dense fog clouding his judgement. The reality of her loss was just too great. "Please, Clara. Don't make me do this. I'll do anything to keep you. You want me to stay forever? Be a family? Sod off? Whatever you wish. I'll do whatever it takes. Just come back to me," he begged her one last time, hoping somehow the sound of his voice would reach through to her and pull her from the darkness. As he hung his head in surrender and exhaled a deep disheartened breath, after having given up all hope of saving her, she finally stirred.

Her body jolted as if it had been hit with a defibrillator. The Doctor, surprised by the sudden motion, gasped with elation and took her hand in his. "That's it! Fight it, Clara!" He squeezed her hand. Her body convulsed again, then laid as still as the calming sea. __My Clara, stubborn even in death__ , he thought, continuing to hold onto her. He waited patiently in the moment of stillness with great anticipation as the nanobots worked to restore the life back into her. "C'mon, Clara," he whispered nervously, his hands still bound to hers so that she would know she was not alone. Without warning, her body thrust a third and final time. Her eyes flew open as she gasped for air. "Good girl!" he cried out. "That's right, just breathe!" He was overwhelmed with relief, kissing her hand and resting his cheek in her palm.

Clara coughed and gasped again trying to fill her empty lungs. As her senses began to wake up from their brief dormancy, she suddenly felt so very cold. An unusual feeling of density had formed over her as if an increase in gravity was forcing her body to the table. She searched her surroundings, her eyes felt heavy and in dire need of rest. Feeling his presence beside her, she met his grateful glance. "Doctor," she barely managed to say in a whisper.

"Shhh. I'm here, Clara. You're alright, I'm right here," he soothed her. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel every movement of her fingers as they grazed along the surface of his cheek. "You came back to me." He smiled towards her, meeting her gaze once again. Her tired eyes struggled to remain focused on him before closing, falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion. He was near tears at how truly fortunate he felt at that moment, being so immensely thankful to have her in his life again. His love for her had maintained such a secure hold on him he found it difficult to breathe simply being around her. Yet nearly losing her made it clear to him that from now on he must do everything in his power to keep her safe. Her life was much too valuable to allow her the freedom to put herself in danger again. This time there would be no mistakes. If he had any chance of protecting her from future endeavours, he would have to change the rules.

* * *

The scent of freshly brewed tea caught her attention as she began to awaken from her current state of rest with an exhausted groan. Her entire body ached, her chest felt heavy and sore, her lungs struggled to fill to capacity with each new breath. There was an unrelinquishing thirst inside of her as if she had gone without water for weeks. Her eyes strained to focus on her new surroundings, looking upon the unfamiliar room with mild confusion. Aside from the bed in which she laid, a Victorian style armoire, and a writing desk in the corner, the room was mostly barren save a few books lining a small shelf attached to the wall. The sound of a fireplace crackling nearby caused her to glance in its direction, her weary gaze meeting the face of her best friend sitting quietly at her bedside. His cheek was rested comfortably in the palm of his hand as if he were deep in thought, yet his attention remained focused on his newly awakened companion. Though his presence by her side brought a sense of calmness, she couldn't help but notice the expression on his face appearing rather forlorn and melancholy as he silently looked to her.

In her fragile state, she carefully manoeuvred herself with great difficulty to a sitting position and rested herself against the headboard of the bed. Having settled, her mind stressed to recall the last thing she had done before waking up in the strange little room. Her head started to fill with so many questions; __how did I get here? What kind of place is this? Why can't I remember?__ The last thing her mind was able to recover was fleeing hand in hand down the dark and narrow corridor while the Doctor led the way towards safety. A dull pain in her shoulder caused her to reach towards it, her fingers trailing along the surface of the patch still clinging to her skin. As the memory of their most recent escapade finally resurfaced, she found herself unable to look him in the face. The sense of shame she felt towards her own actions was just as painful in thought as it was physically. She felt his furrowed eyes upon her, yet she could not find the words to express aloud that would have rewarded her any redemption for what she'd done to him. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke.

"It's good to see you finally awake," he acknowledged her, clasping his hands in his lap as he leaned back into his chair. "I was beginning to think at any moment a slew of dwarves would pass by to offer their condolences."

"Very funny," she replied faintly, sensing the newly estranged tone in his voice. "How long have you been holding that one in?"

"Oh, I'd say about three days. Give or take an hour or two," he answered as if he hadn't been worriedly counting every second that passed by while she slept.

"Yep, that feels about right," she managed to say with a painful moan, shifting her aching body to a better sitting position on the bed. Avoiding his deepened brow, she drew her attention to her swollen middle still prominently presented beneath the cover of linens draped over her. Tenderly placing her hands alongside her abdomen, she felt around for any sign of life still living within her. After several concerning moments had passed from the lack of movement, she forced herself to glance towards his direction. "The baby, is she-?"

"She is unharmed," he answered dispassionately, watching intently as her relieved expression soothed her troubled thoughts. "For the moment she seems to be resting quite comfortably. She's remarkably resilient given the circumstances, so very strong-willed and eager to survive. And, of course, stubborn just like her mother."

"So long as she doesn't have your eyebrows I think we can afford a little more persistence in our lives," she retorted, returning her attention to the swell beneath the covers. As terrified as she was of what their daughter would become, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly thankful their child still thrived inside of her despite the dangers she had put all three of them through. Though she couldn't explain exactly what she and the Doctor were to each other anymore, nor knew what the future held for them, she still felt an aspect of security with him by her side. The fear she had been carrying over the course of the last several weeks due to Quynn's determination to find them had subsided for the moment. Glancing towards him again, she noticed his eyes continued to observe her in her discomforted state with an intimidatingly hollow expression, his position in the chair unchanged. "Have you been sitting there this entire time?"

"Yes, well," he began, attempting to keep his facetious nature to a minimum, "I thought I should be here in case you woke up and suddenly had the urge to crash the TARDIS into a nearby planet, or an orbiting asteroid just for good measure. Now that you've taken charge over everything, there's no telling what sort of new ideas you have forming inside that head of yours." Though his words seemed cruel, the harshness in his tone of voice only masked how he truly felt inside. A part of him was still so very angry with her. She had betrayed him, she had betrayed his trust and their friendship by threatening to take away everything he loved most. But that would never stop him from loving her. He cared for her so deeply that betraying him would never have made a difference.

His concern for her and their well-being was the main reason he had spent every waking moment by her side while she recovered from her injuries. He wanted to be there when the time came for her to finally regain consciousness so his familiar face would be the first thing she'd see. In the meantime, he managed to find other ways to pass the time while she slept. When he wasn't worriedly pacing about the room deep in thought, he'd read to her aloud so she could hear his voice. After growing weary of that, he'd lay on the bed beside her and openly debate with himself in the hope she would awaken if only to tell him to shut up. When she never did, eventually even that became boring. And when he became consumed by the torment of loneliness, he would attempt to connect with the baby so at least __she__ would feel comforted by his presence. Pressing a gentle hand against his companion's middle, he'd speak softly to their child about the ways of the universe, becoming more amazed each time he felt his daughter push against her mother in reaction to his words. Although it was an experience he hadn't much practice with, as all of his previous children had been loom-born, he found the sensation of movement in his palm quite fascinating. Having notoriously kept his distance from Clara throughout most of her pregnancy, it was almost surreal for him to actually feel the life flourishing inside of her. The rare moments of physical contact between them helped to remind him there was a real person growing within her. Though he knew Clara was perfectly safe where she was without him constantly there to care for her, there was nowhere he would rather be than by her side.

Clara leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. Though his words were painful, she knew she had caused a significant amount of damage to their relationship and the expectations shared between them. It was apparent he was more than just angry with her, she could feel his deepened despondence towards her seething from his position in the chair. His entire demeanour had changed. It would have been so much easier to be dead than face the regret she carried in her heart for having hurt him. After everything they had been through together, he was owed more than what she had done to him. "I was so sure I was doing the right thing," she admitted as soft tears ran down her cheek. "How do you do it, Doctor? How do you know which risks you can take and which you can't?"

"I don't always," he confessed. "The difference between you and I is that I'm just an idiot in a box with a screwdriver, just passing through, helping out, learning. There's nothing special about me. I am nothing, except I'm less breakable than you. The choices I must make aren't always easy, sometimes all we have are bad choices but we still have to choose." He sighed and finally took his leave of the chair. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he made his way towards the fireplace, becoming mesmerized by the flames while trying to find the words to say that would make her understand. "For as many stars that are born every day, just as many others will die. The universe is constantly changing. But you, Clara, there is only one of you in this universe. You are more rare to me than all the planets and stars in all the solar systems combined. Every time you and I get mixed up in something dangerous like this, I keep thinking, what if something were to happen to you? Every risk I have ever taken with you by my side, the single most important thing I must ask myself is, 'Will Clara be safe? Will she be harmed?' And if by chance I'm faced with the unfortunate decision of having to choose between saving an innocent life or the life of my friend and mother of my child, the answer will always be you."

"I'd never ask you to choose my life over anyone else," she replied. Although she appreciated the genuine care he held in his hearts for her, she'd never be able to live with herself knowing an innocent person died because of her.

"You shouldn't have to ask." He glanced towards her, his expression revealing the sincerity behind his words as he returned to her side and sat down on the bed. As much as he wanted to embrace her, he couldn't help but think of the pain caused by having witnessed her death, how close he had come to making a decision he'd never be able to reverse. He felt weighed down by the concept of immorality, questioning whether or not he had done the right thing. The struggle to keep himself from thinking about the real cost of what he had done was a continuous battle between equally matched opposing ideals.

As for Clara, though she felt comforted by his nearness to her, she found herself somewhat conflicted over his constant desire to protect her. A part of her wondered if she would ever again be entrusted to make the right decision whenever the situation presented itself. She hoped whatever choice she made would have been for the benefit of them both. Between their momentary quietness, her eyes began to survey the dimmed room around them, remembering she had never seen this unusual space before. "By the way, where are we? What is this place?" she changed the subject.

"My bedroom. At least I think this is my bedroom."

"Seriously?" she responded with a bit of surprise, taking one last look around as if expecting something new to be discovered about him. "I was beginning to think you didn't have one. In all the time I've spent searching for my own room, I've never come across this one before."

"No one has. Even I can't remember the last time I was in here."

"Now I know I'm not the only one the TARDIS likes to hide things from." She looked to him and braved a smile despite the pain coursing through her chest. As the room became quiet once more, she could sense his distracted gaze, allowing his troubled thoughts to consume him. She delicately placed her hand in his in an attempt to bring him back to her. It wasn't often they had a moment alone together just simply enjoying each other's company. After spending so much time always running and escaping near death, it was a rather nice change.

"Well," he stated coldly, removing his hand from hers to rise from the bed, "you should get some rest. When you are feeling up to it, I'll be in the control room. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." Then he simply exited the room leaving her alone in her own silence.

* * *

Making her way through the quiet halls and tight spaces of the labyrinth made of metal corridors, she finally found her way back to the heart of the TARDIS. Even in her discomforted state, the ship never seemed to lose her sense of humour when it came to rearranging herself. As she entered the large room, she noticed the Doctor standing at the console, his back turned towards her. He had been preoccupied with whatever task he decided needed his attention while she kept her distance from him. She cleared her throat to alert him of her presence in the room, but he did not turn to greet her. Taking a hesitated step towards him, she tried again to gain his acknowledgement, "You wanted to see me?"

After a moment he finally responded with, "Yes." He kept his back to her as he continued to tinker with a new gadget. "I trust you slept well. How are you feeling?"

"Well, for a girl who died and came back to life, I'd say I'm doing pretty well, don't you think?" she stated almost brassily as if it were to be expected she would always be standing there before him no matter what dangers they encountered together. As if her optimism in the situation was worth being recognized by him.

Her words halted him from his work. Setting the gadget down, he braced himself against the console and sighed. "Oh, Clara Oswald. What have I made of you?" His regrets of having stripped her of all she used to be back when she was so pure and innocent began to plague his mind. __How alike they were__ , he thought. The more she had learned from him through their travels the more like him she had become. It was both a proud yet terrifying feeling all at the same time. He had made a lasting impression on her, that much was certain. But to what extent? Would she one day wake up to realize she didn't know who she was anymore, or simply never wake up at all? He regretted his negligence of having not paid more attention to the woman she was becoming. He had relied so heavily on her cleverness and intuition to solve her own predicaments he had forgotten how human she was. He had never travelled with anyone like her before, no one had even come close to how similar their minds were. The pair of them were unstoppable. Whoever had brought them together knew exactly what they were doing. And that frightened him.

"What I did was of my own choice. Please, don't blame yourself for my mistakes," she implored. The uncertainty she felt towards their current relationship caused the guilt inside of her to surface. Though she had made many mistakes before, she knew she had crossed a line that should never have been crossed. She wondered how great her carelessness and disregard of the situation had ruined everything between them, if this time there would be no going back. That somehow their friendship would never be the same again.

"I almost lost you, Clara." He finally turned around to face her, the pain and anger in his eyes connecting to hers.

"I know." She tried to swallow her own shame knowing he did not deserve her tears. "I can only imagine how scared and alone you must have felt after everything I put you through. I never meant to hurt you. If I could take it back, I would. I had no idea the amount of damage I would cause us."

"No you wouldn't, would you." His temper began to rise as he glared at her. "If I had known how reckless you've become I would have left you in your flat, wasting away, moping over your dead boyfriend and feeling sorry for yourself."

His words pierced through to her heart. His anger had caused him to sound unloving and unkind towards her. Though she was prepared to receive whatever punishment he felt she deserved for her actions, the fact he would so easily soil Danny's memory with his cruelness was too much for her. "Why __did__ you bring me then?"

"Why?" he nearly laughed. He asked himself how could he possibly make her understand what she meant to him if she couldn't see the man standing right in front of her? "Because I've seen inside your mind, the terrible thoughts residing within you when the hour was at its darkest. Because I hoped there was still a chance I could bring the fire back into your heart before I lost you forever. Because I thought I could save you. But I was a fool to believe I could've done anything to stop you from harming yourself. I should have left you behind. At least you would have been safe. I could have just as easily handled this all on my own without you putting yourself in danger." He took a moment to compose himself before his anger caused him to say something he'd never be able to take back. Once calm, the underlying heartbreak took its hold on him. "You weren't just risking your life, but the life you carry inside of you. A life that is very precious to me, as are you."

She hung her head, feeling every bit of how cold the room had suddenly become since she first entered it. "I know. And I'm so sorry, Doctor. Truly I am." She felt sick over how disappointed she was in herself by letting him down. If she had any hope in redeeming herself in his eyes, she would have to gain back his trust. Starting with the truth. Even if that truth was more painful to him than it was to expose her inner darkness. "I wanted it to end." She felt her eyes connecting back to his with deepened certainty. "Have you any idea what it feels like to have something so evil and corrupt growing inside of you, feeding off of you as you nurture it into existence? No, I suppose you wouldn't. Every time I feel her movements inside of me I am haunted by the thought of being responsible for every life that has suffered, every person who has died because of her. I can't help but see their blood on my hands. When I think about all the pain she has caused, I don't see any part of us in her at all. How can you expect me to love something so cruel? She's a monster." She returned her gaze to the floor, her shameful tears falling through the grated metal she stood upon.

Approaching her, he sighed. Though she was right about him never experiencing a life growing inside of him, he was empathetic to how it must feel for her. He thought about his own inner demons festering inside him. The constant struggle to keep himself from becoming just as evil was a necessary challenge he couldn't afford to lose. But where Clara saw only corruption and malice in their daughter, he saw much of himself in her. Somewhere buried deep within her, he could see her own conflict threatening everything she was raised to be. Yet he knew that where there was conflict there was also hope. Peering down at his companion's hanging head, he gently lifted her gaze to meet his own and glanced sympathetically into her tearful eyes. "She doesn't have to be."

Clara was truly amazed by his ability to see even the most terrible of things in such a positive light when she could not. With as much as he had suffered throughout his long life, it was simply extraordinary he remained determined not to allow his many misfortunes to break him. She wanted so badly to believe him, she would give anything to share in his compassion and the love he displayed for their unborn baby. The way he marvelled at her growing form, protecting her from all that would cause her harm, Clara realized how much she needed him more than ever to show her how to love their daughter in return.

"There's something I'd like to show you," he requested, taking her hands in his.

She raised her brow in curiosity, yet allowed him to lead her around the console to the other side. In front of her was not what she would have expected as she looked upon the recognizable shape of a newly constructed bassinet. She nearly gasped at its surprising beauty. It was everything she could have ever imagined one to be. Its entirety had been draped in ivory cloth, a mobile of stars and planets hung from above it. She quickly turned to him, "Did you make this?"

"You know, it may come as a surprise to you, but there's much more to me than just an idiot with a time machine. I do have other talents."

"The TARDIS made it, didn't she." She casually rolled her eyes as a smile formed on her face.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "there may have been a slight disagreement over the lack of round things, but yes." He watched her approach its side and place her hands upon its rim, rocking it gently. Her smile continued to beam with tender appreciation. His hearts became full again as he observed her reaction to his gift, imagining how it would feel to tend to her while they looked upon their child resting inside of it. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful, Doctor," she answered, turning around to face him. "But why? We both know she won't be ours for much longer."

"Because I still have hope left inside of me. As long as I still have hope I will never give up. No matter what may happen, I want her to know love and kindness. That is my gift to her."

His gesture warmed her from within. If she understood anything about him, she knew how much his willingness to fight for what was right had become one of the many reasons she found herself unable to resist her feelings for him. She remembered what he told her after changing into this body, making it clear to her that nothing would ever happen between them. Though, over time, she realized he was only protecting himself from his weakness for her, she had not known how painful it would be to deny herself the ability to love him back. His recent confession had given him the courage to reveal the man he really was beneath all of his many layers of security. He had stripped off his armour and allowed her to see everything he had to offer. A commitment to her she would never be able to forget. Slowly approaching him, she tucked her hair behind her ear and thought about his answer to the question that had been captivating her mind since the moment he revealed his true feelings for her. "Is it true what you said back there in the armoury, about loving me?"

"Every word," he whispered nervously as she drew closer to him, watching her every move.

She felt flushed with exhilaration as she strode towards him. Her heart pounded in her chest, the lust and devotion she carried for him had broken free from the chains that bound them. "As often as you've denied it, there is a part of me that has always known. Just as there has always been a part of me that feels exactly the same way. No matter the face you wear, you have always had my heart. And you always will." Observing his surprised reaction, she continued her steps towards him. "I may only have one go at life, but I would rather spend each day of my brief existence showing you all the ways I'm in love with you than live a thousand lives without you in it," she admitted, unable to help the release she felt over having finally confessed what had been eating her up inside. He remained speechless at her words, averting his eyes from hers as he struggled to process the information given to him. "So, daft old man," she spoke with a newly confident provocativeness about her, "what does that make us? A couple? Star-crossed lovers?"

As she drew even closer, he felt the pace of his hearts begin to quicken. In his timidness, he found himself stepping back from her the nearer she came to him. "Uh, well," he nervously cleared his throat, "I hadn't really thought that far ahead." He continued to back away from her. His apprehension of the situation caused his body to tremble, trying desperately to distract himself with humour. "I wouldn't necessarily consider myself an expert, but when it comes to non-linear relationships, I'd say I'm two for two. That's got to count for something." He exhaled a gasp as his backside collided with the console, there was nowhere else for him to go. His hands gripped the edge of the machinery. The closer she came to him the more he could sense the pheromones in the air drawing her towards him. The unpredictability of the situation unfolding before him was enough to make him believe he was just as likely to be slapped by her as she was to wrap her arms around him. Either way, his nervousness caused a malfunction in his thoughts, sputtering out whatever words passed his lips as she finally reached him. "Maybe it would be best if we proceed by taking very small steps. Or we could start over entirely-"

His thoughts were discontinued as she placed her hands on either side of his head and embraced him with a passionate kiss. His hands raised out from his sides as if touching her would have burned his skin. He was both startled and intensely aroused by her sudden affections. A part of him wondered if he had somehow been pulled back into his memories of their night on Prima Nova, that none of this was even real. It had been far too long since he last felt the embrace of the woman he loved. He wasn't so confident he still had what it took to please her. He was afraid he no longer had anything of value left to offer her inside of his furrowed old body. After what felt like a lifetime, she pulled herself away from him and gazed into his eyes. In his shock over her actions, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond nor proceed. "Well, that was… unexpected."

She smiled as a warmth arose from the feeling of ecstasy coursing through her. She had spent so long drowning in darkness she had almost forgotten what happiness felt like. Studying his reaction carefully, she lightly traced her fingers down his chest and felt him shudder beneath her touch. "Was it pleasurable?"

He found her sudden seductive advances irresistible. Whatever insanity had taken hold of his mind, he wasn't so certain he wanted it to end. "Well, perhaps once more couldn't hurt just to be sure," he replied as charming as he knew how to be. Deactivating all of his internal safeguards, he took her into his arms and returned his lips to hers. His hand secured itself upon her waist as the other gently grasped her neck and pulled her even closer to him. He took in every bit of her intoxicating scent as if it were his final breath. He was so very careful with her as if she were made of glass, each touch of her skin under his delicate fingers drove his senses into madness. He could feel her pulse rising beneath his thumb, her breathing deepened the more she became consumed by his tender kiss. She tasted even more divine than he could have ever imagined her to be. He felt every movement of her body against his, becoming one with each other as the passion between them intensified with each new embrace. A new sense of euphoria came over him, finding himself overwhelmed by his desires for her as his buried emotions forced their way out. The hand he placed on her waist found its way to her middle, being mindful of her swelling form as the evidence of their lust for each other pressed into him. After a moment, he felt a harsh thrust to his stomach from within her and grunted from the unexpected assault.

She laughed and leaned away to see his face, "Sorry."

"It's okay, she can kick me all she wants. I probably deserve it," he grinned, brushing his fingers over the softness of her cheek. He couldn't describe in words how complete he felt in her arms. Her eyes were so mesmerizing he felt adrift from reality every time they connected to his. He had waited so very long for this moment, having imagined so often how it would feel to finally have her in all the ways he had only dreamt about, knowing she was finally his. He wondered whether this truly was where their relationship had always been destined for all along or if it was just another effect of the Persuaders' hold on them. Either way, there were far worse things they could have been forced to do.

"I never thanked you for saving me," she professed, taking in the moment around them to reveal her appreciation in all he had ever done for her.

"Oh, Clara Oswald," he smiled, caressing her cheeks in his hands. "It is you that has saved me, in more ways than you can even imagine."

* * *

Works Cited

"The Edge of Destruction." _Doctor Who_ , written by David Whitaker, directed by Richard Martin and Frank Cox, season 1, serial 3, BBC tv, 8-15 February 1964.

"The Name of the Doctor." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Saul Metzstein, season 7, special 13, BBC One, 18 May 2013.

"Face the Raven." _Doctor Who_ , written by Sarah Dollard, directed by Justin Molotnikov, season 9, episode 10, BBC One, 21 November 2015.

"The Girl Who Died." _Doctor Who_ , written by Jamie Mathieson and Steven Moffat, directed by Ed Bazalgette, season 9, episode 5, BBC One, 17 October 2015.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

The Doctor's grip on the edge of the console tightened as he leaned upon it and hung his head with deepened contemplation. His grasp on reality had been progressively slipping from him the longer he endured the unyielding nature of his eternal illness. Every second that passed continued to drain him of rational thought. Though he would never consider himself a stranger when it came to difficult decisions, they had become significantly harder to make the less control he had over his own free will. Every choice, whether rash or not, had almost always been meticulously filtered through a series of precise calculations or matched with his own past experiences. But now, as he struggled internally over the loss of his own morality, he found himself unable to determine if there was any part of him still remaining to help guide him towards the path of righteousness.

He lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder towards the sleeping form of his companion on the upper platform. She looked so peaceful in slumber he hadn't the hearts to disturb nor move her to her own room. Up until this moment, she had become increasingly restless - continuing to wander aimlessly about the ship as if searching for answers within the walls that kept her safely confined. Whether it be due to having grown weary of her time spent solely on the TARDIS or simply a condition of her pregnancy, this was the first time he had seen her truly rested since bringing her aboard. Having spent the last few weeks under his care, he was relieved to see her health had finally begun to improve. The colour of her skin had a livelier shade to it than it had before. The once skeletal features of her face had filled out to its naturally intended beauty. He found himself just as captivated by the return of her maternal glow as he was by her body's ability to transform itself so magnificently.

Though her presence on the ship brought a sense of balance and serenity into his life again, there was something even greater weighing down on his mind. Clara's happiness meant everything to him. Yet he knew as long as there was still danger lurking around every corner on the hunt to find them, they would never be able to leave the safety of these walls. How much time could be spared before she'd start to resent him for keeping her trapped like a caged animal? How much longer before she'd yearn to feel the freedom of the sun upon her face once more? There was nothing in the known universe he wouldn't give her, no request unreasonable enough to deny her. When it came to her happiness and safety there was nothing he wouldn't consider, nothing too valuable to be bartered with. Even if it meant his own life. He sighed and closed his eyes as the memory of their most recent conversation filtered back into his mind.

 _In the middle of a vibrant field of green sat the recognizable shape of the TARDIS resting beneath the crown of an ancient weeping willow. Leaned against her side sat the familiar presence of her silver-haired Time Lord, his arms wrapped gently around the thin frame of his beloved companion as he supported her head on his shoulder. Their fingers entwined, the old man absent-mindedly stroked his thumb over the smooth surface of her hand as they looked out towards nature's most glorious scenery. A light breeze rustled the blades of grass all around them. The silhouette of trees in the distance swayed in motion with each gentle brush of wind as if partnered together to the rhythm of an amorous waltz. One could not have asked for a clearer night's sky as millions of brightly coloured stars shone down upon the admiring couple from the northernmost hemisphere._

 _"Cassiopeia," Clara stated confidently._

 _"Good, and there?" he spoke softly, raising his free hand to point towards the next cluster of visible stars._

 _"And here I thought you had a challenge for me," she teased him. "Andromeda, one of the largest constellations. Her name once meant the 'ruler of man.'" A coy smile escaped her, tilting her head to meet his distracted gaze._

 _"Not bad, for a literature teacher. You're improving."_

 _"Was that... a compliment?" she raised her brow._

 _"An observation. Let's not get carried away."_

 _"Hmm… I think you've been hanging around humans for too long, we're starting to rub off on you."_

 _"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "If anything, it's me they should be learning from. Humans, so hilariously oblivious and predictable. They spend far too much time staring down at the gadgets in their hands than they do at the stars and world all around them. It's no wonder they walk straight into traffic-" he stopped himself, immediately realizing his error as he observed the smile fade from her face. He closed his eyes and sighed. 'Doctor, you really are an idiot!' he cursed himself thoroughly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."_

 _"It's okay. It wasn't your fault, there's nothing to be sorry about," she assured him, trying to shake the thought of Danny's recently departed soul from her mind. The pain of his absence, though still prevalent, had been diminishing as her days living with the Doctor continued to wear on. Yet it would never take away the guilt she still held in her heart for having deceived the man she once loved. The man who had seen past her faults, the man who had loved her for who she was even after the pain she had put him through. A man that cared for her so deeply that he still loved her even as she carried a child not of his own blood. She couldn't help but hate herself, even just a little, as she dwelt upon the thought of how much she had hurt him. And now he was gone. Not matter the remorse she bore within her, he would never know how truly sorry she was._

 _As she tried to clear her mind of the images of the past, she suddenly felt the strong sensation of movement as their child began to stir and shift position within her. Clara brought a hand to her middle and held her breath as a brief contraction caused a light pressure to form low in her abdomen. Her other hand squeezed his firmly as her muscles instinctively tightened around their baby. The contractions had been appearing more often over the past few weeks, each one lasting slightly longer than before. A progressively unpleasant reminder of things soon to come._

 _The Doctor, concerned by his companion's sudden discomfort, pressed a delicate hand to her belly and protectively massaged a series of small circles over their restless daughter in an attempt to calm her. He could feel every push of her movements against his palm as she manoeuvred herself to a better position inside of her mother. His hearts felt lifted with elation as her warmth spread throughout his body once more. He felt every muscle in Clara's body tense as her grip on him tightened with intensity. Sliding his way up and over her middle, he pressed his hand to her sternum and gently pulled her in closer to rest against him, savouring each beat of her heart as they tapped in rhythm against his fingers. Hoping to ease her mind from the conditions of her pregnancy, he tenderly kissed her temple and placed his cheek upon her head as they waited patiently for her contraction to subside. Though he cherished Clara for providing life to their growing child more deeply than even his own existence, he couldn't help but think to himself how surreal their situation had become. Within his arms he cradled everything that mattered to him the most. It seemed far too good to be true. And in his experience, that was a most unfortunate possibility._

 _After a moment, he heard her exhale her held breath. The tension in her muscles relaxed under his grasp as she finally released her firm grip on his hand. "Are you alright?" he spoke softly into her ear, returning his hands to rest upon the swell of her abdomen._

 _"I think so," she nodded, her mind and body melting back into his embrace. "They've been getting stronger. I seriously don't understand how women make it through this part." She peered down the length of her to where he cradled their child and placed her hands over his. "Not much longer now," she informed him, unable to help the underlying hint of dread in her words._

 _"Yes. And to think, you've only eight months more to go."_

 _"Hang on, what?!" Her eyes went wide with shock. She quickly turned her head to towards him only to discover his unsubtle amusement over her reaction being ridiculously painted by his wide grin. "Not even a little bit funny," she noted, frowning at his humour as he continued to laugh._

 _As they returned their attention towards the brightly lit sky, he could feel their bodies unifying as one with each expansion of her diaphragm under his palms being matched to his own steady breath. His hands drifted lazily along the surface of her belly, taking in every bit of her while he still could as he thought about their vastly approaching forthcoming. "Are you frightened?" he whispered._

 _"Terrified."_

 _"That's good! There's nothing wrong with scared. It's a superpower you know," he smiled, attempting to ease her mind from her troubled thoughts._

 _"So you've mentioned. Doesn't make it any less real."_

 _"Yes, well, when it comes to danger spreading fear into the hearts of its victims, there's one thing hardly anyone ever takes into account."_

 _"Oh? What's that then?" she raised a curious brow._

 _"Me," he grinned towards her._

 _She found herself laughing for the first time all evening. "Ah yes, of course. I should have known. I don't suppose you're offering to have this baby for me then, are you?"_

 _"Wouldn't that be something." His smile widened as he looked upon the beauty of her beaming face._

 _Clara looked out into the open field once more, taking in every bit of it as she could with a deep inhale of fresh air. "Thank you for bringing me here. I really needed this."_

 _"So did I," he admitted, hugging her tightly. The moment between them became quiet and serene as they continued to enjoy the company of one another. Being with her had given him a sense of purpose again. As long as he had her there was no need to question what he should be fighting for. Everything he loved the most about her, from the softest touch of her skin down to the life she carried in her belly, she brought more meaning to his existence than anything he ever encountered. Having spent so many years of his life saving others, he finally realized all the dangers of the universe could never love him back the way Clara did. 'His Clara', he thought, looking to her with unmatched admiration. Her eyes had glazed over as if deep in thought, appearing content in the comfort of his arms yet absorbed with whatever concerning notion had taken her attention. "You're doing it again."_

 _"Hmm? Doing what?" she responded absent-mindedly._

 _"The sad smile. You're smiling but you're sad. It's really confusing. It's like you're malfunctioning."_

 _"Sorry." She brought herself back into the moment between them._

 _"What is it?" he asked, genuinely concerned over her current state of mind._

 _"Nothing, I suppose I'm just tired is all," she replied, softly running her fingers over the top of his hand._

 _"You're a terrible liar. It doesn't suit you."_

 _Clara let out a sigh as she thought about the right words to say that he would understand. "It's just that, I dunno, is this at all what you'd have imagined it to be? Us I mean. Do you ever feel... trapped?"_

 _"Clara, we're stuck inside of a paradox loop for all of eternity. You'll have to be more specific."_

 _"No, not that. I mean, if I wasn't carrying your child, if we had never gone to Prima Nova, would we still be... whatever this is?" she gestured to both of them. "Would you have ever told me how you really felt?"_

 _Taking the time to consider his answer to her question, he leaned his head against the wall of the TARDIS and exhaled a deep breath. It wasn't often he found himself revelling in his answers before speaking them, but she had a certain way about her that made him feel committed to being as collective as possible when it came to the importance of being truthful. "In my own way, I think I would have, yes. Perhaps not in those exact words, but I know eventually we would have reached a point in our friendship where I could no longer bear to keep how I felt hidden inside of me." His attention drew back to her middle, spreading his fingers protectively over their child. "She may have been the push I needed to let go of everything I had been holding on to, but I've never once felt confined by her existence." Though genuine in his answer, Clara remained unusually quiet at his words as if disconnected from him. Somewhat concerned by her lack of response, he brought his hand to her chin and gently tilted her head to meet his sombre expression. "Do you feel trapped here with me, Clara?"_

 _Regaining her mind, she peered deeply into his eyes and rested her hand to his cheek with care. "You mean everything to me, Doctor. Nothing you could ever do would make me feel that way about you. I'm feeling trapped in my own body. I feel trapped by who we are to each other being the reason we were forced into this situation and by the thought of us never finding a way out of it. I've come to terms with the very real probability that at some point really soon I will be giving birth on the TARDIS as a fugitive of my own fate instead of as a free woman. So yes, I'm feeling trapped. But not by you, never by you. Do we understand each other?"_

 _He smiled sincerely at her question, allowing his fingers to roam freely over the softness of her cheek. "Yes, I believe we do," he responded, his eyes lost in her gaze. He felt warm and comforted by her words as he lowered his head and tenderly pressed his lips to hers. He could feel her fold underneath his romantic gesture, opening her mind and soul to him as the taste of her lingered upon his lips. Looking up from her, he could see the sparkling reflection of the distant night's sky within her eyes. It was truly a sight worth remembering._

 _"What about you, are you scared?" she asked._

 _"I have you, what could I possibly have to be scared of?"_

 _Hesitating for only a moment, she responded with, "Are you scared of being a father again?"_

 _Carefully considering her words, he thought to himself, 'My Clara, never ceasing to amaze me in so many ways.' Though torn by her question, there wasn't a day gone by he hadn't wondered the same thing. He spent so long believing the universe would never allow him such joy in his life that he had convinced himself he couldn't be anything more than what he had become. "I've lived a long time," he started, returning his gaze to hers. "After so many years being absent from the place I once called home, away from the memory of those who once held my hearts in their hands, I can still remember their faces. I'd tuck them in their beds and watch over them as they slept, always terrified I wouldn't have what it took to protect them from all the dangers of the universe. I remember the darkness that consumed me after I lost them. I remember the vengeance I swore to unleash upon those that had taken them from me. Yet, underneath all that hatred and rage, they are just a part of me as the title I swear by. They are the reason I continue to prevail against those who would do me harm. As long as they are with me I will never give up fighting to save those who would suffer the same fate. They've shown me what really matters in this life, that our existence is never about our individual quest for virtue and self-enlightenment. Life is about our experiences and those we wish to share them with. It's about family. You are my family, Clara." He paused as his eyes focused on her middle, pressing his hand against her belly. "This is my family. I will do whatever it takes to protect it."_

 _His confession captivated every part of her soul. The vision of what the potential future could hold for them consumed her as his words ripped through to her own heart. There was nothing she wouldn't give to share even just a piece of what they could be together. His eyes conveyed such love and compassion for her that she found it difficult to breathe. Her gaze followed down to where his hand met her belly and rested her hand over his. "I want her, Doctor. I want to hold her and watch her grow. I want to be there by her side every step of the way as she learns about the world around her. I want to be there for every scraped knee, every disappointment, every frown. Which if she takes after you will be quite a lot," she teased before returning to her genuine thought. "I want to be a mother to her."_

 _"I know," he replied as his guilt of all the damage he caused began to surface in his mind. He had already taken so much from her, what could he possibly have to offer her that would redeem himself of his actions? He would rather spend a billion years being tortured by his enemies than deny her whatever she desired most. There was only one thing left for him to do, one aspect of himself left untapped he could trade for if it meant she'd be safe. The gears in his head began to spin as a plan started to develop inside of it._

Bringing himself back to reality, he took a deep breath and sighed again, his focus drawn to the control panel in front of him. He cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt collar before typing a message into its interface. Hesitating for only a moment, he regained his confidence and pressed down on the send button. The view-screen suddenly came alive with vibrancy as the encrypted message blinked steadily upon the screen. Pushing all of his guilt and shame away, he knew he was gambling with his own fate. There would be no turning back now. Whatever the future had in store for him, he had wiped his hands clean of it. Raising his gaze to the screen, he felt defeated against its power over him as he observed the words displayed upon it.

"We need to talk."

* * *

Works Cited

"Dark Water." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 11, BBC One, 1 November 2014.

"Mummy on the Orient Express." _Doctor Who_ , written by Jamie Mathieson, directed by Paul Wilmshurst, season 8, episode 8, BBC One, 11 October 2014.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

 _New York City, 1893_

The scent in the air on the corner of South William Street was thick with the fragrance of coal fires and freshly laid mortar between the bricks of each new building casting their shadow upon the darkened alleyways. A symphony of bells and whistles from passing cable cars and nearby locomotives settling themselves onto the newly constructed tracks were accompanied by the trumpeting calls of steamboats traversing the surrounding sea. The paved streets were crowded with the hustle of motor cars and horse-drawn vehicles competing with each other for the right of passage. An abundance of canopy shops lined the lower exterior of nearly every building as merchants sold and bartered away their provisions to passing customers. Those privileged enough to be able to afford to look towards the future did so as long as their fortunes held out against the downfall of the country's withering economy, while those less fortunate had no choice but to live each day in the present as if it were their last.

A harsh breeze wafted through the darkened underbelly of the expanding city, bringing with it the unmistakable perfume of sweat and desperation as its occupants struggled to survive within the epidemic that had brought them to their knees in despair. The working class was suffering a new spiral of unemployment. The streets were littered with the destitute and penniless victims of the newest depression to have swept the entire nation. Vagabonds and beggars outnumbered the highly prized members of wealthy New York society by an alarming majority. As businesses and banks had fallen into bankruptcy, soup kitchens had risen in their place to provide what little nourishment they could offer to the poorest of patrons lining up in droves around every corner. The halt of imported goods by train and the weathering threat to crops had caused a significant amount of famine and starvation. Gone were the gilded days of prosperity.

In front of a newly renovated bronze-coloured building stood a grey-haired man, his observant eyes fixed upon the tall triangular shaped structure's columned entrance. Above the door to the establishment, the name "Delmonicos" had been painted in gold lettering welcoming the most prestigious frequenters of fine dining. The man stood cautiously with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. The passing breeze rustled his coat to reveal its red interior lining concealed underneath. He waited patiently, mentally preparing himself for what was to happen once he finally stepped through the threshold of the infamous lion's den.

A sound nearby forced the Doctor's focus to shift towards the weakened cries of a hungry infant being soothed in her mother's arms. Beside her sat a young boy of no more than four desperately clinging to her torn skirt. His clothes were dishevelled and soiled. In his hand he presented a small child's cap in which he held out in front of him beseechingly. His tearful eyes scanned each passing citizen in search of contribution to his family's withered state until they found themselves meeting with the Doctor's own. The sight of them tore the old man's hearts. He felt his stomach turn at the thought of what the future would hold for them. His mind began to fill in the blanks of their story with the assistance of each clue provided to him by their disadvantage and appearance. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the father. Had he succumbed to some sort of unfortunate demise or simply abandoned them to their fate? All he did know was humanity had always been notorious for turning a blind eye to the repercussions of their own greed, why would he ever expect them to behave any different? The Time Lord hung his head in sorrow, knowing there was little to nothing he could do to spare them from the debilitating grip the panic had placed on the country. As unbearable as it was to relieve his mind of the suffering all around him, he had no choice but to remind himself of the fact that he wasn't there for them. Ignoring the pressing desire to offer his assistance to the sea of unfortunate souls surrounding him, he returned his gaze to the building in front of him and removed himself from his stagnant position on the street. Each new step towards the structure's entrance caused him to become even less sure of what he hoped to accomplish on this task he so determinedly set out for himself.

The foul stench of pipe-tobacco and old money filled his nostrils as he entered the main dining area of the popular restaurant. A pallet of colours could be well observed within the fabric of each lady's tulip bell skirt to the more traditional black and white tuxedos worn by the gentlemen seated at nearly every available table. Each place-setting had been meticulously decorated with fine porcelain dishes, glass flutes, and polished silver. Hung low from the ceiling were the most magnificently crafted crystal chandeliers the city had to offer to help brighten the mood. Each wooden panelled wall was fastened with a piece of priceless artwork or lit with a pairing of gas lamps to accompany the crackling fireplaces in every room; all the essentials available to provide the diners with the warm-hearted feeling of home.

As he glanced around the small ocean of finery, a recognizable female figure was seated alone at one of the few circular tables left available. He felt his face frown at the sense of her presence in the room. Taking notice of her era-appropriate attire, he observed she was currently preoccupied with whatever literature seemed to have kept her attention. Approaching slowly, he hesitantly filled the vacant seat across from her and placed his intertwined hands atop the table. After a moment of glaring in her direction, he cleared his throat to alert her of his presence. As if she really needed it. To his great irritation, she continued to ignore his existence and instead resumed her reading of the daily newspaper. He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes at her childish behaviour, choosing to fill the silence between them by closely examining the room around them for potential threats. Towards the rear of the dining hall, he noticed a long table entirely encompassed by variously aged gentlemen of significant wealth and stature engaged in praising conversation. The darkened mood of the room had been purposely set by a number of hand-stitched privacy curtains drawn tightly over the frame of every window in the building, dissuading those who would be considered unwelcome from entering.

Returning his attention to the _other_ last of the Time Lords, he finally spoke. "Nice touch, the curtains. How difficult it must be to enjoy the finer things in life with the sight of filthy street urchins peering in, don't you think? I mean, why even have windows at all? Seems like such a waste of a perfectly functioning wall." His sarcasm now peaked, he eagerly awaited any sign of acknowledgement from her direction. After a moment, a young man dressed in a neatly pressed white-coloured uniform approached the table holding a lunch card out towards the Doctor.

"May I offer you a menu, sir?" he addressed the new guest of the table.

"That won't be necessary. I have no intention of staying any longer than I absolutely have to," he answered roughly. The irritation in his voice by the sudden interruption was impressively palpable. The waiter simply nodded his head before removing himself from their presence and reuniting the pair with their silence once more. The Doctor impatiently drummed his fingers on the surface of the table and attempted to make use of his limited experience with small talk. "Well, isn't this nice," he spoke facetiously. "Although, I can't help but wonder how much money is sitting in this room all at the same time. You can probably bet it would be enough to feed every starving person in this city for an entire year."

"I believe you're missing the headline, dear," she responded from behind the newspaper without bothering to lift her gaze.

"Am I?" he raised a curious brow. "Let me guess. There's been a murder and we're all here to figure out which one of us did it. My money's on the waiter. He's very sinister looking, that one."

"No, I mean the actual headline. Do try to keep up," she noted smugly, folding the newspaper closed and tapping her finger on the front page.

Frowning, he reached over and casually pulled the paper from her grasp, ignoring the smirk spreading across her face at his misuse of the obvious. Holding it to the light, he could make out several notable articles fitted with striking titles intended to grab the eye. At the top were the words, "The World. New York: Friday, March 3rd, 1893." Just below that, in the left-hand column, it read, "Silver the Trouble: More financiers point out bad effects of the Sherman law," and in the right, "For Four Years More: Cleveland in Washington to take command again." _...Boring._ But then he saw it. Right in the centre of the page were the words, "City welcomes innovative minds for tomorrow's patent convention." Lifting his furrowed eyes to meet with hers, he turned his head to revisit his attention towards the long table of rambling gentlemen. Taking a closer look at each individual, he realized they weren't just any ordinary humans. He was so quick to dismiss them before he hadn't noticed their faces. Sitting at the head of the table, and most notably one of the eldest of the group, sat the one and only Alexander Graham Bell celebrating the very eve of his forty-third birthday. Among the other guests included at the luncheon was the well-known and highly esteemed American inventor Thomas Edison. Beside him sat his newly acquainted twenty-six-year-old chief engineer Henry Ford. And last, but certainly not least, was the strapping young Nikola Tesla who had undoubtedly travelled there with the intent to promote his ideas for wireless communication after having briefly worked for Edison in the years prior. There sat four of the most significant minds of the nineteenth century. And they were all sitting together, all in the same room at the same time.

The Doctor closed his eyes and sighed as he came to understand why Missy had insisted upon choosing the time and place of their meeting. What a tragedy it would be if something were to happen to those who would one day help shape the future with their life-changing inventions. Though the thought of smacking himself in the head with his palm for being such an idiot had crossed his mind, he couldn't bring himself to visually admit his mistake in front of her. He should have known she'd try something like this. There was always an ace up her sleeve. "How strange, I don't seem to recall hearing about this particular convention taking place before. What a coincidence we all managed to be dining here at the same time. And I'm completely against coincidence."

"Hmm, that _is_ peculiar," she started, placing her finger to her lips as if deep in thought. "It would appear as though some mysterious person must have invited them all here."

"Ah, I see. I don't suppose there's any chance their table _isn't_ rigged to explode at the push of a button, is there?" He attempted to keep his temper under control, yet felt infuriated by the fact she was toying with him by threatening to risk the course of history at the cost of losing the upper hand.

"Ooo, how clever. Would you care to find out?" She perked at the thought.

"I said no tricks," he warned.

Missy rolled her eyes and groaned at his ignorance. "Have you always been this boring, or does 'perpetually distracted' come with the title?" She narrowed her eyes and thought to herself that there was something different about him. Something she noticed the moment he entered the room yet couldn't quite place. Something... new.

"Yes, well, I've had a lot on my mind lately given the circumstances," he implied, yet knew deep down she was right. He had become painfully slow and oblivious to the signs all around him. How could he possibly be entrusted to protect Clara if he was barely able to anticipate the threat of danger through his misguided judgement? He was both depressed and disappointed in himself all at the same time. _What is the point of me now_ , was the million dollar question he had been pondering longer than he cared to admit.

"Ah yes, of course. And how is our Clara? She must be ready to pop any time now. How far gone is she these days?" she asked, nonchalantly sipping at her glass of water.

"There's still time enough left. What's the hurry? Is the call of motherhood so desperately knocking at your doorstep? Was there no other unfortunate mate available to satisfy your biological needs you had to come to me?"

"My dear Doctor," she laughed. "Are you offering?"

"Don't be disgusting," he scoffed. "It's bad enough I have to live with what I've done. Speaking of which, I think some congratulations are in order. I can always recognize your handiwork when I see it. I've really been meaning to bring it up, but your parenting skills could use a bit of attention," he noted, mentally dusting off an encyclopaedia's worth of bantering material from his internal repertoire to sharpen his wit against the inevitable tango of insults and inquiries forming between them.

"She's quite magnificent, isn't she? She reminds me so much of you, the old you that is. So much potential there. Pity she's only half as good as she could be."

"Or perhaps you're afraid there might be more of me in her than you think there is," he provoked her.

"I dread to imagine," she teased as a smirk formed at the corners of her lips. "So, tell me. How are you enjoying our little loop so far? I do believe it's one of my best yet. Though I do rather enjoy a rousing critique from the greatest admirer of my work. Especially from the one who had entrapped me in a loop of their very own design once upon a time ago. I felt it only fair to return the favour." She raised her glass as if to offer a toast on his behalf.

"Is that what this is all about? Revenge for something I did to you over a thousand years ago?" He attempted to keep the volume of his voice maintained so as not to draw attention to their conversation.

"Has it truly been that long? Seems like only yesterday," she replied coyly, reminiscing over their past feuds. It had been far too long since the last time she and the Doctor had been on the verge of killing each other she almost forgot how dearly she missed it. It was practically their foreplay.

"And what about Greece, hmm? Or have you forgotten what became of your little plan to help the Odobenidans invade Earth? As I recall, it was me who released you from being trapped in a time loop you created by mistake," he pointed his finger accusingly in her direction.

She scowled at his accusation, "And as I recall, it was the Time Lords who forced you to release me. If it had been left up to you, you would have left me there for all of eternity!"

"Oh come now, where's your sense of humour? I would have released you on my own, eventually. I was merely letting you stew in the error of your own ways. Besides, didn't your mother ever teach you not to tamper with temporal mechanics?" he quipped, keeping their rivalry to a certain level of maturity so long as they remained in the company of humans.

"Hmm, perhaps I'll keep that in mind when the time comes for you to follow through on your promise to me," she bit back.

The Doctor sighed. He folded his hands in his lap and leaned back into his chair to appear as non-threatening as possible. The most difficult part of his dealings with her, no matter the form she had taken, had always been his inability to discover something she'd appeal to. She had no sense of humanity as she was not human. After having gone mad from looking into the time vortex through the untempered schism as a child, each incarnation of her held some level of insanity to one degree or another. Everything she ever stood for had been carefully crafted by her never-ending desire for self-preservation and the urge to eliminate those who would stand in her way. There was no reasoning with her, the only way to get what he wanted from her was if she offered it willingly. "What is it you really want with her? What are you trying to accomplish with all of this?"

"My dear Doctor, surely you know," she insinuated, sitting forward to peer into his eyes with a certain malice about her. "The child is my insurance policy against you. I've been planning all of this from the very start. Everything I've worked so hard for is about to come into fruition. Every foiled attempt I've ever made to bring order and destruction to the weak and useless species in this universe always had one thing in common; you. It was only a matter of time before I'd eventually discover a way to keep you at bay."

He opened his mouth to respond but was silenced by the sound of a phone ringing in his pocket, suddenly recalling the act of having left his companion asleep on the couch and had slipped out without her knowledge. He felt it best to have kept her in the dark about his intentions rather than to cause her to worry in the delicate state she was in. She never would have allowed him to face Missy alone nor agreed to his reasoning behind requesting this meeting in the first place. He couldn't risk bringing her, this was the only option. Retrieving the phone from his pocket, he reluctantly stared at the screen where the name "Clara Oswald" was displayed in the centre. Hovering his finger over the button, his mind teetered between the decision to answer the call or allow it to ring. There was no quick excuse in his mind to dissuade her from exiting the TARDIS and exploring on her own, yet he knew if he didn't answer she would assume something was wrong and make it her mission to find him.

"Ooo, and now it begins," the grin on her face widened. "Doctor, I do believe you're on call. Miss Oswald expects. Who else but the girl who's got your number? Whoops!" she gasped, faking surprise at her own confession.

The Doctor's gaze shot up towards hers, reading her expression with precision in search of any truth to what she had so boastfully claimed. Missy had always been notorious for her lies and misdirection. Yet, as his mind quickly began to piece together the greatest mystery to have ever found its way to him, it all started to make sense. Of course it did. How could he have been so stupid? The woman in the shop.

 _Flashback to Cumbria 1207 A.D. inside of an underground cavern._

 _"Where did you get this number?" asked the man dressed in brown robes into the receiver._

 _"The woman in the shop wrote it down," said Clara from the present time, desperately trying to understand technology in all of its intended usefulness. "It's a helpline, isn't it? She said it's the best helpline out there. 'In the universe,' she said."_

 _"What woman? Who was she?" His curiosity piqued, he couldn't help but think to himself that he had heard the female caller's voice before. But more importantly, there were very few people he could possibly think of who would even have access to the TARDIS emergency line. So why did she?_

 _"I don't know. The woman in the shop."_

 _Flashback to late nineteenth-century London._

 _"Who put that advert in the paper?" asked Clara, suddenly finding herself on the trail of a mystery that had brought them both to the same location._

 _"Who gave you my number?" the old man replied, adding to the suspense of why they had been summoned there to begin with. The most important question with no answer he had ever asked of her in his new body as well as his last. "A long time ago, remember? You were given the number of a computer helpline and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?"_

 _"The woman. The woman in the shop." Her eyes glazed over in thought, suddenly realizing they had already had this conversation before._

 _"Then there's a woman out there who's very keen that we stay together."_

 _Flashback to eight months ago in Clara's flat._

 _"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," he baited her, distracted by the thought of who or what could be calling him, yet suddenly experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu all at the same time._

 _"Well, I've got it," she pointed out matter-of-factly._

 _"Yes, from some woman in a shop. We still don't know who that was."_

"It was you!" he spoke harshly through gritted teeth, allowing his companion's call to be missed by him.

"Computer helpline, love," she replied in a heavy cockney accent. "That's the one. Best helpline in the universe."

"You put us together!" He could feel the heat emanating off his face from anger and violation. She had finally managed to find a way to manipulate him beyond all measure. All the years he had spent pining and hiding himself away after losing his Clara for the second time, all the days spent searching for another version of her with the hope he'd one day find her again, it had all been masterfully conducted and contrived by one of the most dangerous minds he had ever known.

"I kept you together."

"Why?!" His voice began to rise unintentionally.

"Cause she's perfect, isn't she? The control freak and the man who should never be controlled. If there's anyone who could bring out the monster in you it'd be her. And by the look of it, she already has."

The Doctor felt himself snap in a fit of rage, slamming his fist down on the table. The dishes and silver rattled loudly together at the force of it. All pairs of eyes in the room found their way towards the sudden disturbance, filling the air with momentary silence before resuming their meaningless chatter.

"Oh do stop making a spectacle of yourself, dear. It's embarrassing," she mentioned quite casually, and rather pleased with herself. She pulled out a mirror from her coat pocket to address the smudge from her lipstick with the tip of her finger. Satisfied with the rest of her perfected appearance, she replaced the mirror beneath her coat and clasped her hands atop the table with purpose. "Well now, I think it's time you tell me why we're _really_ here. You wanted to talk, so talk."

He took a moment to reassess his elevated emotions, reminding himself of the importance of his mission to bring them together for this meeting. Once calm, he finally directed them to the real point of all of this. "I came here to negotiate a trade."

"Ooo, how sexy. I do love a good negotiation. And what, may I ask, are the terms?" she asked, her interest now piqued.

The Doctor leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands at his chin as he thought about the consequence of what he was about to offer her. He felt vulnerable and scared of what she would do once he finally laid it all out on the table. But what other choice did he have? She had him beat at every turn, anticipated his every move. The only manoeuvre he had remaining was the element of surprise from right out in the open. She'd have expected it any other way. Every scenario had played out in his head over and over again, the only way to know for certain what would happen was to just come out and say it. "I'm here to offer you my life for the child's." His words were sincere and innocent as if to prove to her there was no cause for deception in mind. To show her there was no trick up his sleeve or trap to be set for her, that this was as genuine as he knew how to be.

Missy's eyes narrowed with hidden interest as they concentrated on the Doctor's expression. Her mind twisted around his words, pulling them apart piece by piece to better analyse his true intentions. He had never offered himself so willingly before without a hint of ill-intent to be unearthed. _So why is he giving himself away now,_ she wondered? And then she understood. Suddenly it all made perfect sense. He was in love. _Oh Doctor, what a fool you are._ A wide grin parted her lips at the thought of how easily he had fallen right into her hands. "My my my, I never thought I'd see the day. I knew there was something different about you. I could smell her scent on you from an entire galaxy away." She studied his reaction carefully as his eyes drifted down to the table. Whatever thought was going through that thick skull of his was being purposefully hidden from her. Was it guilt? Shame? Or was it something much deeper? Whatever it was, his guard was finally down. She had won. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Interspecies relationships seem to run wild on your side of the family. Like granddaughter, like grandfather. You know, I always thought there should be a law against _unnatural_ breeding."

The Doctor's gaze shot up towards hers once again, angered by her lack of compassion. "Oh? And what about Lucy Saxon, or have you forgotten about her as well?"

Her smile faded at the question. The audacity he had to bring up that name in her presence quickly sparked a hellfire in her. "I could never forget the face of anyone who has ever betrayed me, companion or not."

"She was your wife! What you did to her was unspeakable," he persisted.

"And yet, here we are," she gestured with open hands to their conversation. "She wasn't the first to get close to me only to betray me in the end. She deserved what she had coming to her. Besides, I didn't kill her. She took care of that herself," she noted pridefully.

"How convenient for you." His brows furrowed with intent as he glared at her. "And what if _she_ were to have fallen pregnant? Surely there must have been one point or another in your marriage to her which would have warranted a consummation. If she had carried your child to term, would you have ever allowed it to be raised so wrongfully by your enemies?"

"That's where you and I differ, Doctor. I never would have traded my child away so carelessly because there never would have been a child to begin with," she insisted, leaning forward and lowering her voice so that only he could hear. "You see, the very moment it would have been revealed to me I managed to put a life in her belly, I would have counted the seconds it took her to reach the ground after I personally threw her off the Valiant myself." The smile spreading across her face at her confession would have frightened pure evil itself.

"You would have murdered your own child?" he asked, shocked by her admission.

"Never keep any strings attached, Doctor. The quickest way to discover your enemy's weakness is to threaten the people they love. And there is no one in this universe I love more than me."

"So you _never_ loved her then?"

"Now who's being disgusting?" Having become bored and rather annoyed by the turn of conversation, she decided it was time to get back to the root of why they were there. "Well, as much as I love hearing about myself, enough about me. Contrary to what you may believe, this isn't about getting revenge for all the times you've meddled in my plans. As much as I enjoy our little chats, I intend to keep as much distance between us as possible. The farther away you are from everything I am trying to accomplish the better. And as for your offer, you've had your chance to be by side time and time again. You chose your path long ago, it's about time you paid for it."

The Doctor suddenly found himself truly defeated. There were very few times he thought he'd never come back from that feeling, but this was definitely one of them. If she were willing to kill her own child, she'd certainly be capable enough to kill Quynn if he tried to stop her from whatever it was she was planning. He realized his daughter wasn't just an insurance policy, she was a hostage. "Well then, it seems we have nothing more to discuss," he replied in frustration as he stood from the table and excused himself from the conversation.

"Doctor," she stopped him. He kept his back turned towards her, refusing to look her in the eyes. He felt his fists ball in anger. He was so very eager to exit the room as quickly as possible, yet he couldn't help himself from halting at the sound of his name being called. Hesitating for only a moment at her next choice of words, she finally spoke. "You really are in love with her, aren't you?"

The urge to reply lingered in his mind, but he knew that regardless of the answer it wouldn't have mattered either way. Whether she knew if he truly loved Clara or not, the truth about how he felt would never have been enough to prevent Missy from coming for her. The love he carried in his hearts for Clara was the only part of him left she could never take away. Knowing what she wanted to hear, he chose instead to remain silent at her accusation so as not to satisfy her with a response. Then he simply removed himself from his position and vacated the building.

* * *

Works Cited

Kludt, Amanda. "Remembering Delmonico's, New York's Original Restaurant." , 29 June 2011, 2011/6/29/6673317/remembering-delmonicos-new-yorks-original-restaurant.

"For Four Years More." _The New York World_ (03 March, 1893), volume 33, issue number 11,518: 2 pages. Print. Retrieved from  
/new-york-world-mar-03-1893-p-1/

"Silver the Trouble." _The New York World_ (03 March, 1893), volume 33, issue number 11,518: 1 page. Print. Retrieved from  
/new-york-world-mar-03-1893-p-1/

"Alexander Graham Bell." _Wikipedia_ , Wikimedia Foundation, 27 April, 2020, wiki/Alexander_Graham_Bell.

"The Claws of Axos." _Doctor Who_ , written by Bob Baker and Dave Martin, directed by Michael Ferguson, season 8, serial 3, BBC1, 13 March-3 April 1971.

Anghelides, Peter. _The Seismologist's Story_. Big Finish Productions, _Short Trips: Repercussions_ , story 4, August 2004.

"The Sound of Drums." _Doctor Who_ , written by Russell T Davies, directed by Colin Teague, season 3, episode 12, BBC One, 23 June 2007.

"Death in Heaven." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 8, episode 12, BBC One, 8 November 2014.

"The Bells of Saint John." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Colm McMarthy, season 7, episode 6, BBC One, 30 March 2013.

"Time Heist." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Thompson and Steven Moffat, directed by Douglas Mackinnon, season 8, episode 5, BBC One, 20 September 2014.

"The Dalek Invasion of Earth." _Doctor Who_ , written by Terry Nation, directed by Richard Martin, season 2, serial 2, BBC1, 21 November-26 December 1964.

"The Sound of Drums." _Doctor Who_ , written by Russell T Davies, directed by Colin Teague, season 3, episode 12, BBC One, 23 June 2007.

"The End of Time: Part Two." _Doctor Who_ , written by Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat, directed by Euros Lyn, season 4, special 7, BBC One, 1 January 2010.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Clara stared down at the screen in her hand with mild concern, unsure of how worried she should be that the Doctor had not answered her call. It wasn't the first time he left her on the ship and gone out exploring on his own. In fact, she'd been left behind to babysit the TARDIS for an entire week once before. By the time the Doctor finally returned home, he discovered seven identical time copies of Clara, one for each night, running about the ship all at once. Though the TARDIS seemed to think the practical joke was rather hilarious, all eight of his companions were not amused.

Before she moved in with him, their adventures together had been for the most part routine. Wednesday had become the most looked forward to part of the week for her so long as he hadn't overshot it by a day, or several. The days in which she wasn't with him usually meant he was off running about the universe with his own personal agenda for getting into trouble. Yet, the moment she walked through those blue doors on __her__ day she knew he would have saved some place special just for her. She missed it. She missed the adventures. She missed the excitement that lit her up inside the moment he pulled down on that lever. The thrill that coursed through her veins as the TARDIS clattered her signature thematic melody of time travel. But now, everything had changed. She had become the precious cargo he needed to protect, the artefact within the glass case you'd never open for fear of it breaking. Where she was once considered his obsession, the greatest mystery to be solved that ever plagued his mind, she had become his possession. What she wouldn't give to truly feel needed again, to have made a difference in someone's life once more.

Before she even had the chance to talk herself out of going to look for him, the door burst open unexpectedly as he stormed his way through and headed towards the centre console. The look in his eyes as he passed right by her was that of fury and anger. He reached the console and immediately began inputting a new set of coordinates into the interface in frustrated silence.

"Doctor," she called to him, sensing the tension in the air being electrified by his despondence towards whatever had riled him so. He chose to ignore the underlining concern in her voice, continuing to keep his back turned to her as his attention remained focused on his work. She approached his side and tried to read his expression carefully.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You want to know what's wrong?" he nearly laughed, refusing to look her in the eyes as he manually calibrated the small knobs in front of him. "I'm completely useless is what's wrong!" he continued, the intensity in his voice filled the vacant space all around him. "All those years spent saving others, shedding blood for them, sacrificing myself over and over. And what have I got in return? Absolutely nothing! I am... __nothing__." His angered demeanour suddenly shifted to sadness as he thought about the reality of his own worth. When faced with the most desperate of situations, he always managed to come out on top even if the means of winning hadn't always been present until the very last possible second. And now, as he faced the biggest challenge to have ever taken its hold on him, it had become apparent he couldn't even trade himself away to save Clara and his daughter from their fate. "Everything I am, all I've ever accomplished, is meaningless. My life holds no value."

Clara felt her face deepen with concern at his words. As much as he was trying to hide it, she could see the desperation in his eyes. He rarely ever spoke in such a disheartening manner, but when he did, it meant he had relinquished all hope of winning. "Doctor, why are you talking like that?"

"Because it's true," he answered sorrowfully.

"No, I know that face. Something's happened."

"I should have killed her when I had the chance." He circled away from her to the other side of the console and continued to calculate their next point of interest.

"Who? Killed who, Doctor?" She followed after. Though she knew he was trying his hardest to avoid the conversation, she'd have to be blind to assume that something __hadn't__ gone horribly wrong. She had known him long enough to tell when he was keeping something from her. Leaving her on the ship confirmed whatever it was would be something she wouldn't approve of. The more she tried to read him the more she realized there was only one person she could possibly think of that could have caused the anger in his eyes right then. "Missy. You've been to see her, that's why you didn't tell me where you were going."

He sighed and hung his head, knowing there was no point in lying to her even if he wanted to. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of running." He looked to her with newfound certainty in his eyes. "Look what has become of us, Clara. We've become encased by our own fear. This is exactly what she wanted, this has been her plan all along. I thought I could protect you by keeping you here. But in reality, we're nothing but animals waiting to be led to the slaughter. Or do you really believe the cow feels safe in its pen watching as all of its own kind are taken away to become a number on the drive-through menu?"

She rolled her eyes and groaned irritably as she approached him. "You always do this, make jokes when things become a bit too real for you. The classic misdirection. So what aren't you telling me? What have you done this time, Doctor?"

"For once this isn't about what I've done. It's about what I tried to do," he replied, feeling the guilt inside of him intensifying as he thought about how many times he tried to save her in his own way without her knowledge. As often as he promised her inclusiveness when it came to her involvement in his plans, there was no easy way for him to prepare her to live the rest of her life without him.

"I can already tell I'm not going to like whatever you're about to say. So go on then, get it over with." She crossed her arms, awaiting his next confession with significant apprehension.

He took the moment between them to find the right words to respond. He knew she would never fully understand the reasoning behind his impulsive behaviour, especially when it involved her. The grief he still held in his hearts over what he had done prevented him from letting her get too close for fear of hurting her even more. But they had a duty of care to each other. Missy may have been responsible for putting them together, yet, in the end, it was he who chose the companion to accompany him. __I never know why, I only know who__. Clara had a spark about her that was worth perusing. There was a wonder in her eyes that reminded him of how it felt the very first time he became consumed by the idea of traversing the stars. But now, over two thousand years later, he could no longer see what his previous companions saw the first time they watched a sunrise on a different planet, their first meteor shower on a distant star, or what it looked like for them to finally realize they were not alone in the universe. Their purpose had always been to help remind him that it was his job to save people, and more importantly, to understand what he was saving them for. As for his Clara, though she shared the same compassion and understanding displayed by her predecessors, she was remarkably different. Of all the companions he ever travelled with, none of them ever filled his beating hearts with so much passion quite like she.

"I want so much to give you everything, Clara. Even if it breaks me." Though the truth had become more painful to him than letting her believe his lies, he knew his love for her should never have warranted his deception. If their partnership truly meant what it did to him, if he had any hope of keeping her in his life, then he must start by being a better man for her. "Missy isn't after you, it's __me__ she wants to see suffer. Unfortunately, she has targeted you to be the collateral damage of a nearly two thousand year old rivalry. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't stand by and allow that to happen. The injustice she's done to you is because of me. I felt the only way to make it right was to offer her the one thing she has always wanted. The one thing that has evaded her over and over again no matter how many times she's tried." He looked to her tenderly, hoping there was a part of her that would understand the heartbreak he felt he must endure at the cost of loving her so deeply. As much as he wanted there to be, he feared there could never truly be a happily ever after waiting for them. No matter the choice he would be forced to make, he'd still be the one to lose in the end. "I offered her my life in place of our child."

"What? Doctor, you didn't-" she tried to protest.

"By offering myself to her I could have caused the timeline to reset. And even if it didn't, I still could have given you the chance to be a mother to our child, to raise her the way she should have been. It is your right, after all. I did it for you, Clara. Your happiness means everything to me."

Clara brought her hand to her brow and attempted to control the disbelief forming inside of her. As much as she wanted to be angry with him for continuing to put his life on the line for them, she knew deep down she was no better than him. If he learned anything about her from her confession on Messaline, he knew how far she'd be willing to go to save them both. It should have come as no surprise he would be willing to do the very same. "But you knew I'd never allow you sacrifice yourself for me, so you chose to do this on your own," she accused him. "Is this what our relationship has come to? To see which one of us will find a way to sacrifice ourselves for the other one first?"

"I'm sorry, Clara. I had to try. But, as it turns out, I'm much more useful to her alive than dead. As long as I'm alive and out of the way she is in control. I should have known she'd be clever enough not to trust me, that she'd have come prepared. This loop and everything in it is of her own design. From the very first moment this all started to whatever the end may be, she knows what is at stake if any part of it were to be altered in any way. She could end this any time she wants with just the snap of her fingers, but she chooses to keep us all trapped in here with her just to spite me. This is all one big game to her."

"The thing about games is anyone can win. But this is one game that isn't over for us just yet."

"And it never will be, not unless we can discover a way to defeat her. A way she will never be able to anticipate." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, pacing about the room as he thought about how much he missed the satisfaction that came with overcoming a new challenge. But this, this wasn't a challenge that could so easily be championed. There was no way to tell how long she'd been perfecting her design to accommodate for his intellect and capabilities. Using the Persuaders to help her disable his mind wasn't the only thing to be concerned about. Though it slowed him down significantly, it hadn't completely debilitated him, __yet__. What concerned him the most was Missy's ability to remain one step ahead of him at every turn. As powerful as she was, he proved time and time again there had always been a way to bring her down. The only thing he needed to do was find it, but how?

Clara watched as the old man huffed about the floor in front of her. She knew this routine very well. This is what it looked like when he was about to lose himself in the depths his own mind. This was his desperation and exhaustion acting out the only way it knew how. This was what the Doctor looked like when he found himself relying on nothing but fumes to fuel him. And now it was up to her to step up to the plate before he'd inevitably seek drastic measures in order to win. She had to stop him before he went too far. After all this time, it was finally __her__ go. "Let me in, Doctor. What's going on inside that daft head of yours?"

"I feel like I'm missing something obvious," he continued to pace, his focus drawn to anything but her.

"Then we find it. Keep thinking."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I'm sorry Clara, but I just can't! I'm useless, there's nothing left up here but an empty void!" He held the sides of his head as if it were about to explode.

"Wrong. Tell me exactly what happened," she approached him, her voice rising with intensity.

"I've already told you, I offered myself to her and she refused. What more do you want from me?! I've tried everything I can think of. It's simply no use! She can't be beaten!" he fought back, bracing himself against the console in defeat.

"Wrong! Try again. Why didn't she accept your offer?"

"You're the smart one, you tell me!" he screamed facetiously.

"Stop acting like a child and think! What more do we know about her?"

"That she agreed to meet with me even though she knew what I was planning." He gripped the edge of the console in frustration. He knew she was provoking him, it took all of his strength not to detonate in a fit of rage.

"And why would she do that?"

"I don't know, Clara!" he growled, his eyes burning fiercely.

"Yes, you do!" she insisted, refusing to back down from the argument. "You know her better than anyone! So get your head out of your arse and concentrate! Think. If this loop is so important to her, then why would she risk everything by agreeing to meet with you?"

He quickly turned his head towards her, throwing her a heated glance out of childish spite, when the answer finally hit him. "Ooh..."

"Oh?"

"Oh!" He rushed to her and gently took hold of her arms, his fury having calmed. "Yes, of course!" His eyes were wide with enlightenment. "Because she already knew what was going to happen!"

Clara placed her hands on his shoulders to focus his attention as his thoughts flew by her at a thousand miles a second. "And how would she know that?"

"Because she's been telling herself!"

"Which means?"

"That she hasn't been predicting the future, she has access to it! She's been sending messages to her past. She met with me because she __had__ to, it was part of the chain of events."

"And?"

"And... she knows how it will end. That's how she knew we'd be at the auction a second time! That's how Quynn knew exactly where to find us! She's known every move we plan to make even before we do."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"If I can find the end, I can stop her."

"And how do we do that?"

"The same way anyone does. One step at a time, except with a TARDIS." A small grin formed over his face. He found himself relieved and yet saddened all at the same time as he gazed into her eyes. Where he should have experienced the unrelinquishing urge to spring into action, he felt only disappointment in himself for not having solved the problem sooner. It was as if he were the last horse to have left the gate in the race of his lifetime, and it was only going to get worse for him from there on out. He feared by the time he finally reached the end, there would be nothing of him left still able to fight. "Oh, Clara. I've been such a fool. The answer has been right in front of me the entire time but I just can't see it anymore. What is the point of me if I can't protect those I love from harm? I've failed us." He hung his head, his eyes meeting the space between them where their child continued to grow. "I've failed you both." As much as he desired his companion's comfort in his time of need, the warmth she brought to him by her loving embrace, there was no one he could think of who deserved it less than he. "I am unworthy of you."

Clara brought her hands to rest upon the sides of his face and lifted his gaze to hers. As much as it pained her to see him so distraught, this was the moment he needed her by his side the most. This was her purpose to him. This is what he had been preparing her for ever since the first time he opened his doors to her. "Now you listen to me. Whatever Missy has planned for us, you will not let this defeat you. I've seen you do so many miraculous things even when all hope had been lost. You're a survivor, that's who you are. You live to tell the tale. You have a reason to keep going. And you have me. As long as I am here standing by your side you will never have to do this alone."

"And what if I'm wrong? If I don't succeed, she will still come for our daughter."

"Then let her come. Together we are stronger than she will ever be. But the moment you give up everything you stand for, the very second you begin to doubt yourself, she will win. If we truly are to succeed in this, then our fate will be the one to find us in the end. Until then, I guess we're both just going to have to be brave."

The Doctor felt his eyes water as he brought his hand to hers and gently kissed her palm. He found himself scared beyond all measure over the thought that the lives he cared so deeply for were at stake if he were to fail. "What if I can't find her in time? What if I'm already too late? What if I'm making a terrible mistake and she kills you for it?" He felt his hearts tear at the thought. "I can't lose you, Clara. I'm not strong enough."

"I'm not afraid of dying, Doctor," she consoled him, trying her hardest to be as brave as she knew how to be. "Do you want to know what I am truly afraid of? I'm afraid you'll end up getting yourself killed out there trying to save us. I'm afraid you'll regenerate and not know who I am any longer. Or worse, that you won't know who __you__ are anymore. Every time you step out there risking your life trying to protect us, I am terrified you'll come back someone else. That everything I knew you to be would vanish with the man I fell in love with. If something were to happen to you, everything we are now and ever had been could be lost forever." She lowered her hands from his face and pressed them tenderly to his chest, his hearts beating steadily against her palms. A sadness arose from within her as she thought about the real truth taking hold of her heart. Though she knew how conceited it all sounded in her head, she wanted him to know more than anything what truly frightened her the most. "What if you were to forget me? What if one day you woke up in a new body and came to realize you didn't love me anymore?"

His hearts began to bleed at her words. He recalled the distress and confusion he experienced at the height of his transformation into this body. He remembered the look in her eyes after he changed from the man she had fallen in love with to someone she had become afraid of. Though he forced himself to become distant and unkind towards her due to the guilt he carried from having put her through that, he never forgot the love he bore in his hearts for her. A love that put a smile on his face even now as he carefully wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head in his hands. "My Clara, how could I ever forget you? I've let you into my head. And now that you're in there, there's no getting rid of you. Believe me, I've tried." A small laugh escaped him before returning to his genuine thought. "Clara," he continued, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaning away to see her face, "you are more dear to me than anything I've ever laid eyes upon. For as long as my hearts still beat within me, they will always belong to you. No matter the face I wear, my love for you is eternal. All that I am, both in mind and body, is yours. So long as you'll have me."

Clara felt tears of admiration fall from her face, her eyes passing back and forth to each of his as his words filled every part of her soul. "I love you, Doctor," she confessed, feeling the passion between them intensifying with each second that passed.

His smile brightened as he tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek in his palm. "And I you, Clara Oswald." He lowered himself to finally meet his lips with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself as close to him as her body would allow it. His fingers wove through her hair, supporting her head in his hand. The fire inside of them was being fuelled by the intensity of their embrace. He couldn't pull himself away from the maternal radiance about her that continued to draw him in like an addiction. He felt a sense of power over her he could not explain as he thought about how his love for her was responsible for the transformation her body proceeded to endure. A transformation that proved him wrong about what he thought he was no longer capable of as the result of his affection for her pressed into him. She was more than just compatible with him. The fact that she was willing and able to carry a Gallifreyan child to term showed a strength in her he felt even more honoured to have by his side.

Each one of his senses were being overloaded by the electricity in her touch, the familiar fragrance about her that was bound to her and her alone, the way her voice brought comfort to his troubled thoughts even when they were apart. His lust for her was even more powerful than any known elixir in the entire universe. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead to hers, their minds connecting to one another. He could feel every movement of her delicate touch as her hands slid from around his neck down to his chest. Her fingers worked slow and steady to unfasten the buttons on his vest. An unexpected nervousness crept up from within him as her pulse quickened beneath his thumb. Having parted the first layer of defence, she moved on to the shirt underneath. His breathing deepened as she untucked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. " _ _Clara,__ " he whispered into her mind, his thoughts malfunctioning over the effect she was having on him. His hearts skipped their steady beating as her fingers grazed the surface of the last layer still able to protect him from her soft touch. Her warmth penetrated his skin like sunlight as she finally freed the fabric from the fastenings that bound it. He found himself unable to distinguish between his current reality and the past as his mind became flooded with the visions of their first romantic encounter together. He was suddenly pulled back into the memory of the night she conceived his child. The images of what they had done flashed into his thoughts uncontrollably. He remembered every detail of her vulnerable form lying underneath him once more. His mind retraced every perfection of her skin as his hands and lips explored her. The feel of her body against him as he pressed himself on top of her. The indescribable warmth emanating from within her the moment she opened herself for him and allowed him inside of her, guiding him to where he needed to be. How gentle he was with her even when he no longer had control over his own mind. The moment he left his mark of territory inside of her, claiming her for himself as she gasped beneath him. The images were so powerful it caused the fire inside of him to burn out of control. He became frightened of its hold on him.

He felt her hands upon his chest, their skin finally connecting to each other for the first time her memory of it remained intact. His nerves caused him to tremble as he endured every moment of her touch on his skin. Her fingers continued to trace their way down his torso as if they had a mind of their own. His hearts pounded against his chest as she continued to explore him. The fire inside burned like a fever, engulfing him in the heat of their passion. " _ _Clara, wait,__ " his plea echoed softly into her thoughts, becoming overwhelmed by his desire for her. He felt a sense of vulnerability by her touch as she caressed the softness of his stomach. A small gasp escaped him as her fingers slid just beneath his waistband. The sudden urge to take her right then and there consumed him, a feeling which betrayed every part of his reserved nature. The animal inside of him was clawing its way up to take control, he was afraid of what he would do to her when it finally escaped. Before she could go any farther, he brought his hands to hers and gently stopped her. He removed himself from her mind, severing their connection to each other to gaze apologetically into her eyes. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"What is it?" she asked, her expression reflecting that of concern for having somehow wronged him.

He glanced down at their held hands, running his thumbs over the smooth surface of her skin as he thought about his next words. She had a way about her that could bring out the best and worst in him. As much as he wanted her to be able to accept both sides of him equally, he'd never be able to live with himself if the parts of him he couldn't control were to harm her in any way. "I'm afraid I'll damage you."

A moment of understanding passed through her, returning her hands to the sides of his face to comfort him. As confident and intelligent and reserved as he had shown this body to be, for a moment she could see the child-like innocence of his last form from behind his eyes. Perhaps all of his previous faces were there staring back at her right then, or maybe they had always been there. Though it had taken her time to adjust to his new body, she realized he wasn't the Doctor she had come to know nor a combination of his past selves. He was __her__ Doctor. She'd follow him to the end of the universe and back. Just the Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS. "You won't hurt me," she assured him, lowering her voice to a whisper and gazing into his eyes. "Hold me, Doctor. Don't ever let me go," she pleaded, returning her lips to his. She could sense his hesitation for only a moment before becoming engulfed by the warmth of his embrace holding her tightly to him. His hands upon her, he remained a gentleman in her presence. The rare moments of physical contact between them made it easy for her to forget he was not of her world. She closed her eyes, experiencing every movement of his lips trailing gentle kisses down her neck and shoulder. Having become lost in the power of his passion, she was unexpectedly taken by surprise when he leaned down and carefully lifted her into his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Not bad, for being two-thousand years old," he grinned.

"Oh? And where are you taking me, old man? Off to another adventure?"

"Spoilers," he teased, holding her tightly as they descended down the stairs into the underbelly of the TARDIS.

* * *

The shadows on the walls were brought to life by the flickering light of the fireplace as the Doctor and his beloved companion laid quietly upon the bed facing each other. His bedroom had finally proven itself useful by accommodating for the very important fact that his expecting human counterpart needed her rest more than he, among the __other__ things they recently found to do in there. He gazed upon her as she slept, his mind distracted by the way her bare skin glistened in the light provided for them. His hand rested comfortably upon the swell of her middle as he absent-mindedly ran his thumb over the surface of her skin while being careful not to wake her. He couldn't help but admire her beauty, she was absolute perfection to him in every imaginable way. She sacrificed more than just her body by allowing his child to grow and thrive inside of her. She left behind her entire way of life for him; her friends, her family, and her work, all so she could gift him with exclusive access to her mind and eternal soul. A gift he could only repay by devotedly offering her the very same.

His child stirred underneath his touch, awakening to the sense of his presence around her. Her warmth once again found its way throughout his body. Sensing her strong desire to communicate with him, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to seek a connection.

Expecting to be transported to the familiar darkness that once housed her expanding life force, he was bewildered to find himself surrounded by the breathtaking view of billions of iridescent stars shining brightly from every direction. An entire galaxy composed of the finite particles that made up the essence of her existence suddenly formed all around him, and she had become the sun. The size of her light dwarfed him in comparison as he looked to her with significant admiration. Her soft whispers called to him as if they were spreading to every corner of the universe. __"I'm here, little one,"__ he called back to her, his words echoing from the centre of his thoughts. __"What have you to tell me?"__ he inquired, hearing the song of her voice so clearly in his mind as she responded to him the only way she knew how. A great light suddenly appeared from beside him. Shielding his eyes, he could see it was emanating from a tear in reality as if she somehow managed to open a doorway into another dimension. She spoke to him, offering for him to enter. __"What will I see in there?"__ he asked nervously, surprised by how powerful her abilities had become. In her silence, he hesitated for only a moment before striding forward into the illuminated unknown.

The light engulfed him like the swarming sea as he passed through the threshold of the tear, unprepared for what to expect once he finally crossed to the other side. His senses blinded, the first thing he experienced upon entering was the sound of singing. No, not singing. Chirping. __Birds? Here?__ As he lowered his hand, the world around him began to unfold as if it were fading into existence. __A blue sky, grass, trees. A field perhaps?__ The wind blew through his hair, bringing with it more distinctive sounds from somewhere nearby. __Laughter.__ Seeking the source, he saw the image of two figures in the distance. He slowly approached them, his eyes adjusting to the glow of the new world he found himself in. The figures, once faded, began to take on a more definite identity. A mother and child. __Clara.__ Her back turned to him, he need not see her face to know it was her. No other being in the known universe had control over his hearts quite like she. Her hair had grown long. Her gown, white as winter's snowfall, flowed effortlessly with the passing breeze. She knelt down, her attention focused on the small girl standing at her side. __Quynn.__ Their whispered words were taken away by the wind. __What is this place,__ he wondered? The vision was so real he was unable to determine if it was simply the remnants of a dream shared by their connected minds or a possible view into the future. It was not entirely uncommon for children of Gallifrey to be gifted with the ability to see what has yet to be at such a young age. Their extraordinary talent for clairvoyance is what made them prime candidates for becoming a Time Lord at only eight years of life. However, if this truly was a glimpse into what the future could hold for them, then his daughter was more powerful than either one of them could have ever imagined her to be.

He continued his approach, observing intently as they plucked a single dandelion from the grass below them and watched its seeds being blown away by the wind. The girl laughed at the sight, and then her mother. Their voices echoed so vividly in his mind. The girl clung to her mother, offering her a tender embrace. Her mother hugged her close, then smiled as the small child ran farther into the field to play. His eyes upon his companion, being drawn to her like a moth to the flame, she finally met his gaze. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight in every imaginable way, her smile was brighter than he had ever seen it. There were yellow flowers woven into her long brown hair like a crown. The happiness she displayed at his presence brought about an indescribable glow to her; a radiance. The nearer he came to her the more he could feel a familiar electricity emanating from within her. The feeling was so real, so divine, he could think of nothing else that even compared to the hold it had on him.

Standing as close to her as he dared to go, she stood and turned to him. His eyes peered down the length of her to where her hand was delicately cupped under the small swell of her middle, the place where their second child now flourished. __Another?__ He suddenly found himself in awe of her, his affections exceeding themselves over how effortlessly she could carry his children within her petite form. __Oh Clara, you truly are the eternal light that guides me.__ He could feel the elation inside of him beaming with tender appreciation for her. The desire for them to be a real family filled him with a love he was unable to explain in words alone. If this was merely a dream, then he no longer felt afraid of the darkness that had taken hold of her. Her mind was starting to repair itself, with time it was possible he could cure her. He could have purpose to her once again.

He allowed her to approach, the sight of her seemed to melt him from within. Gently taking the beauty of her face in his grasp, he pressed his forehead to hers. She embraced him, placing her hands upon his chest. He felt the beats of his hearts quicken regardless of the mentality in which he had become a part of. Her skin felt so real, her scent overpowered his senses. This was the reality he yearned for more than anything, even if it meant he'd never be able to leave this place again. All the concerns awaiting him in the real world suddenly faded away. She had become his drug, his addiction, his obsession, his everything. His lips met with hers, she tasted just as lovely as he remembered. He leaned away to see her face, the same brown eyes he had come to know so well stared back at him tenderly. __"Is this real?"__ his whispered thoughts became the wind all around them.

She smiled up at him, taking his cheek in the palm of her hand. __"I'm real, Doctor,"__ her mind responded softly.

His eyes lowered to the space between them and pressed a delicate hand upon the new life growing inside her belly, his fingers protectively spreading over the swell of her. __"And this?"__

Her smile brightened as she gently placed her hand over his, __"If you want it to be."__

He stared admiringly into her eyes as if he'd never leave them. After everything he put her through, after all she had suffered, he was truly aspired by her body's desire to be transformed by him again. __"You'd have another child with me?"__ he asked softly, genuinely adoring every moment his hand remained pressed over her gift to him.

 _ _"It would seem you have a certain effect on me,"__ she responded coyly.

 _ _"I can't help myself,"__ he admitted, grinning brightly, __"you're even more irresistible when you're carrying."__ Matching her wide smile with his own, he leaned in to place a tender kiss to her brow. __"Oh, Clara Oswald. I don't deserve the happiness you bring to me,"__ his mind's profession filled the air as he thought about how fortunate he was to have her, how badly he wanted this family more than anything he's ever desired.

 _ _"I'll be the judge of that,"__ she teased, taking in the moment between them for as long as it would remain in her consciousness.

As she looked to him, she noticed something shifting in the forest out of the corner of her eye. Turning her attention towards the trees, she could make out what appeared to be shadows moving in the distance. As her smile began to fade at the sight, the vibrant blue sky suddenly darkened to grey as if a storm were about to hit them. The wind picked up in speed, bringing with it a new set of voices she did not recognize. Her once elated expression was replaced by the sensation of fear as she felt a presence around them that had not been there before. __"Something's here with us, Doctor."__

 _ _"What is it, Clara?"__ he asked, concerned by the terrified look in her eyes.

 _ _"We're not alone,"__ _she answered, her_ breath heavy with fright. __"They're coming."__

He felt panic rising from within him at her words of warning, __"Who's coming?"__

 _ _"Wake up, Doctor."__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _No, I won't leave you."__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _You have to,"__ she insisted, stepping back from him.

 _ _"Please, Clara. Don't send me away,"__ he begged her, unwilling to abandon their strong connection to each other.

 _ _"They're scared."__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _Who is?"__ He approached and placed his hands on her shoulders to focus her, __"Who's scared, Clara?"__

 _ _"You need to wake up, Doctor. Please. I'll be fine, don't worry about me. Just-"__ she stopped herself as frightened tears fell from her face. Then she became very still. __"They're here."__

 _ _"Who's here? What can you see?"__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _They're all around us, can't you feel it?!"__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _I'll protect you, Clara. No one is going to harm you!"__ he assured her. She suddenly cried out and clutched her belly as the image of her fluctuated in and out of their shared vision. __"Clara!"__ he called out in fright, unsure of what was happening to her and his child.

 _ _"Go. Now! Please wake up, Doctor!"__ she shouted into his thoughts, her image returning to him.

 _"_ _ _I'm not leaving here without you!"__ _  
_

 _"_ _ _You must! I'm only here with you in your mind, but my body is not,"__ she replied urgently.

 _ _"Is someone there with you? Are you in danger?!"__ _  
_

 _ _"Doctor, listen to me,"__ she pleaded, taking his face in her hands intently. _ _"Our daughter is trying to warn us that something is out there. I can feel her fear inside me. Please, you need to release us. Break the connection. If they find us they will kill us. You must face them. Do as you're told and wake up, Doctor! WAKE UP!"__ She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The force of it jolted him awake, gasping from the sudden shock of reality. He quickly sat up and searched his surroundings thoroughly. He was back in his bedroom. His companion's sleeping form lay still beside him. Her brow was damp with sweat as if she were trapped inside a nightmare. His mind raced with the recent escalation of their connected thoughts, her words of warning coursed through his mind. He quickly scanned the room for danger but saw no immediate threat to them. Clara moaned softly next to him as if she were in distress. Returning his attention to her, he brought a hand to her brow and placed the other over their child. Sensing their connected afflictions, he was certain something serious must have brought them to their frightened state. As much as he wanted to remain there to comfort them and ease their minds, he was much more concerned with discovering what had caused their fear.

He carefully covered his companion's exposed form with the blanket and removed himself from the bed. Reaching down, he gathered his trousers from the floor and began to get dressed as quickly as his old body would allow it. Placing on his white collared shirt, he started for the buttons when he was suddenly halted by the unexpected sound of haunting screams coming from somewhere within the ship. And then silence. Quickly turning to his companion, he could see she remained unaltered by the disturbance. Great fear passed through him as he realized she may have been right about them not being alone.

He listened quietly and waited for the sound to return. Before he could conclude that he was simply losing his mind, a demonic-like voice from far beyond the corridor forced his attention towards the doorway. Its resonating bellow echoed down the path as if it were moving. The Doctor held his breath and kept himself as still as possible. Then he heard another voice, this time closer. There was more than one of them. He was torn between curiosity and fear of what could be powerful enough to infiltrate the TARDIS. Whatever they were, he couldn't risk Clara nor his child's safety. In order to protect them, he would have to draw the demons away.

He cautiously crossed the threshold of the doorway. His nerves caused him to tremble in fear of how many of them could be out there. He glanced back at the form of his sleeping companion, reliving the terrified feeling that had taken hold of him long ago when it was his children asleep before him. Whatever horrors were in there with them, he would not allow them to take his family from him this time. Turning towards the corridor once more, he pressed the button next to him. The metallic door slid shut, sealing her within the safety of its walls.

He followed the sounds of the demons' calls, frightened by the thought that he was entering the unknown without the help of his befriended gadgets. The farther down the corridor he went the louder their voices had become. Whatever the source, it sounded like concentrated evil. He slowly rounded the corner, the sight of the next room ahead provided little comfort as he sensed the entities somewhere inside of it. Approaching the doorway, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes attempting to pull himself together. He concentrated on steadying his heavy breathing and calming his pounding hearts. A bead of nervous sweat trailed down his brow. He could hear them so close now. "I know you're here," he braved speaking to them aloud. Then suddenly, there was silence once again. He opened his eyes, finding the courage to remove himself from the wall and enter the room. The library.

The lack of sound inside was deafening aside from his own breath. His senses on high alert, he cautiously headed towards the heart of the room. Though he couldn't see them, he knew they were there. Suddenly the walls appeared to come alive as the creatures moved to hide their identities behind the tall bookshelves between them. Their haunting moans seemed to form all around him. His legs bolted themselves to the floor as he listened in to their calls. He couldn't recall being more petrified than he was right at that moment. He heard their hiss to his right and then to the left of him as if they were connected in stereo. He felt vulnerable and out of his element. Realizing he could die at any moment, the one constant thing on his mind keeping him on the defensive was his desire to live. Not for himself, but for Clara and his unborn child. He needed to protect them, their lives depended upon his survival.

A simulated clicking sound was heard from behind him, freezing him in place. A part of him wanted to run and never look back, but he needed to know exactly what he was dealing with. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture and slowly turned around to face whatever was standing behind him. To his surprise, the familiar shape of the same creature who had taken control of his mind and body floated before him. His Persuader. Its glass-like teeth glistened in the light of the room, its eyes vacant of life. As his mind began to question everything he was seeing, a second Persuader appeared from its place of hiding to join the other. His senses elevated to their highest point, he realized the creatures were frightened of him. " _T_ _ _hey're scared,"__ Clara's words echoed through his thoughts. "Of course," he started, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible. "You've been trapped here this entire time, haven't you? Lost within the infinite walls of the TARDIS ever since we left Prima Nova." The creatures hissed and bore their teeth as they glared at the man. "Sorry I'm not more properly dressed, I wasn't expecting company." Though he could sense their fear, it only made them more dangerous. They had the upper hand, every move he made must be precisely calculated if he wished to survive them. Before he could say anything more, the Persuaders screamed and moaned as they scattered and fled through the walls of the ship. "No, wait!" he called out to them. "Don't be afraid! I won't harm you!"

The Doctor rushed towards the exit of the library on a quest to follow the sound of the Persuaders' voices. Entering the corridor, he saw no sign of them. He sighed and turned his attention towards the wall, placing his hand upon it. He began his descent into the depths of the TARDIS, running his hand along the surface of the metal as if he were searching for imperfections. "I understand how frightened you are," he spoke towards the walls of the ship and listened in for a response, "how alone you must feel so very far away from your own kind. Believe me, I know more than anyone what that's like." He continued on, his senses tuned in to their presence. "This is my fault. If only I hadn't been so afraid. You've been here all this time because of me. Because of my cowardice. Please, don't run. Allow me to make this right." Approaching the next room, he could hear them inside, distressed and calling for help.

He cautiously entered the antique room, not wanting to frighten them any more than they already were. Though the room appeared vacant of any life, he could sense their presence nearby. "Let's start over, shall we?" he called out to them, hoping they would show themselves. Searching the room, he continued his attempt to communicate with the unexpected stowaways. "Introductions. I always love a good introduction, don't you?" He proceeded forward, his hands outwardly displayed to retain their unarmed status. He came to the centre of the room and stopped, his gaze shifting toward the ceiling. High above him hovered the two Persuaders, hissing and flashing their glass-like teeth. "Ah, there you are," he addressed them. They lowered themselves upon him, swarming around him like prey. The leader of the pair presented itself in front of him to observe the grey-haired man intently.

"Hello," the old man began. "I'm Doctor Idiot, and I'm here to help you if you'll let me." The creature bent its head at the strange man in front of it. "I take it you don't remember me, or how you got here. I believe I may have the answer to that." The Doctor lowered his hands to his sides. "But first, we're going to have to be able to trust one another." The creature hesitated, then brought itself lower to the floor as if to explore the possibility of their equality. "I want to offer you a trade," he continued. "I have the ability to restore that which was taken from you. I can unlock your memories. This power I have can only be performed on another telepath, it would certainly crush the mind of anyone else. So, as of right now, I'm the only chance you have at finally being free of this place with your memories still intact." He paused to allow the creatures time to process the new information. The second of the pair circled the old man closely, its razor-sharp talons displayed to remind him of how deadly they were. He could feel the hairs on his arms rise as the creature slowly grasped his neck with its ice-cold talons, piercing the first few layers of his skin. He tried to remain calm, knowing at any moment they could choose to kill him. Though unarmed, his words remained his only weapon. "Please, I can help you. I can bring you back to your home planet, reunite you with your own kind. But I need something from you in return." After a moment, the Persuader hesitantly released its grasp on his neck. The Doctor's hearts beat fiercely as he risked stepping closer to the leader, the look of desperation in his eyes. "I need to know what Missy and Quynn are up to. You're part of their plan and have been from the very start. If there is anyone in this universe who knows where they are, it's you." The creatures remained silent at his words. "Please, I need to know. There is someone I love very much whose life is in danger, and right now I'm the only shot she has. But I can't do it without your help. Please, I'm begging you. Show me what you know."

The creature in front of him returned its attention to the second of the pair, their familiar humming connecting them to each other as if deep in conversation. After a few moments, the leader finally turned towards the Time Lord and approached him. Its lifeless eyes stared back into his, then bowed its head in acceptance of the offer. The old man sighed with relief as his hearts settled from their heavy beating. "Thank you," he spoke to them with genuine appreciation. He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. When he was ready, he opened his eyes and gazed into the void of the creature's sight. "I'm the Doctor and I consent to this memory link with an open mind." The creature in front of him suddenly screamed aloud, its cries resonating off the walls of the room, then entered his body. The old man gasped from the sudden infiltration of his mind.

 _ _The Doctor was suddenly forced back to the memory of their first night on Prima Nova. The walls of the structure seemed to form all around him like puzzle pieces coming together. Glancing around the familiar scenery, he realized he was standing in the centre of the lobby just outside the room they originally arrived in. He was once again able to move freely within this memory like an out-of-body experience. His keen eyes scanned his surroundings hoping this time there would be nothing to stop him from discovering the truth. In front of him stood the memory of Clara and his past self walking hand in hand towards the next room ahead of them. The sound of the Persuaders' connected humming from inside their bodies could be heard as they passed by him. Taking notice of their clothed appearance and the lack of any other guests among them, he concluded this memory must have taken place sometime after their bedroom conception. As the pair made their way to the door, he noticed it had not yet been upgraded to its unusually large size. He followed closely behind as they entered the next room. Just ahead of them was the TARDIS eagerly awaiting the return of her Time Lord. As his past self opened the door, allowing the three of them to pass through the threshold of the time machine, the Doctor found himself unnerved by what was about to happen once they entered. He observed as the pair made their way to the centre console, each one appearing to be fixed upon a particular task set out for them as if they had been programmed.__

 _ _On the surface of the interface crawled the two memory worms, appearing as though they had been left there after their past selves purposely wiped their minds of the mission. Which only raised more questions. How did they know they had been invited there? How far back had their memories been erased? But more importantly, how many times had they done this? Perhaps through their infinite amount of fragmented memories, somewhere the truth was beginning to bleed through. Clara was able to sense it, her confession on Messaline proved her inner darkness was a direct cause of her mind trying to tell her something was wrong. Missy may have known what she was doing by taking advantage of his greatest weakness, but she could never have anticipated the incredibly capable mind of his impossible girl.__

 _ _Clara took a seat at the console in front of the first memory worm while his past self moved to the view-screen. The Doctor watched as the other "him" began typing a location into the interface then pulled down on the lever in silence. The time rotor started up and the ship began to dematerialize. As the TARDIS rocked them towards its instructed coordinates, the Doctor couldn't help but feel a sense of violation by the Persuader's ability to pilot the ship by pirating his memories. Realizing their true powers of manipulation, he wondered why Missy allowed the creatures to leave their bodies at all. She could have forced them to do whatever she wanted them to, so why let them go? Knowing her, she'd never have been satisfied with winning the game unless he knew he was playing it.__

 _ _Once they landed, his past self worked quickly to delete the data to the TARDIS interface. The Doctor exhaled an angered sigh at the sight, thinking to himself,__ _ _"Of course it was me, you idiot."__ _ _Though there should have been a part of him that was impressed by Missy's meticulously thought out betrayal, he'd sooner die than give her the satisfaction. The other him took a seat near Clara just in front of the second memory worm. The Doctor circled the console, observing the last few moments of missing memories leading up to just before they had awoken on the TARDIS. He watched as the pair of them turned their heads toward each other, their arms lifted in unison to hover over the insects. Keeping their attention on each other, they simultaneously lowered their hands and touched the worms in front of them. Their heads landed harshly upon the console as their memories were erased. An ear-piercing shrieking sound was then heard as the two Persuaders removed themselves from their hosts' bodies and scattered behind the walls of the ship.__

 _ _His past self suddenly awoke at the sound of it, his mind having once again become his own. Seeing the memory worm in front of him, he glanced towards his companion who was still unconscious. "Clara," he called out to her, yet she did not stir. "Clara," he tried again but to no avail. "CLARA!" he called urgently this time. She finally lifted her head to see the worm in front of her.__

 _ _"Doctor?!" she screamed.__ _  
_

 _ _"Don't touch it!" he ordered as she backed her chair away to stand just beside his present self.__ _  
_

 _ _"We're on the TARDIS, how did we get here? And what is that?!"  
__

 _ _"It's a memory worm, deletes your memories."__

"Yes yes, I already know this part."

 _"_ _ _Okay, but where did they come from? Why are they here?"  
__

 _ _"I__ _ _don't know. I woke up the same as you. I've been trying to wake you for some time."__

"But what I really want to know is…"

 _"_ _ _Yes, I could hear you. I don't know how, but heard your voice in my dream."  
__

 _ _"I'm__ _ _not so sure that was a dream."__

"...what else aren't you telling me?"

Silence had befallen the room as Clara and his past self suddenly vanished leaving him alone within the empty walls of his TARDIS inspired mind palace. His storm room. "What is it you're hiding?" he asked aloud, his connection to the Persuader still felt within him. "We made a deal. How do you expect me to help you if you can't trust me?" The creature remained silent as if hiding somewhere beneath the layers of his thoughts. "I see," he started, continuing to pace the empty space around him, "perhaps I'm not asking the right questions." He stopped and scanned the room as if searching for something out of place. "Why are you helping them? What's in it for you?" he asked, circling around his position. A moment of eerie calm was present as he waited for an answer. Then suddenly, the walls began to shake as if violently being torn apart from the outside. The Doctor was unexpectedly forced to the ground as large parts of the ship plummeted from their place to the grated metal flooring. Parts of the control panel began to spark and explode. The ship groaned in agony as her walls were ripped open, exposing the room to the vacuum of space. The sight of it froze him in fear as everything around him was being sucked out of the ship. Before he could react, his body was forcefully dragged across the floor towards the vast hole formed by the ship's missing walls and abruptly pulled out into darkness.

The Doctor gasped at the sudden feeling of his mind being towed across the universe as if travelling at great speed through the time vortex faster than even the TARDIS could take him. The stars passed by him so quickly they had become billions of bright lines tearing through the darkness of space. As the galaxies and gaseous nebulae soared by him, he found himself entering a solar system inhabited by a singular dwarf sun surrounded by a series of small revolving planets. He experienced the frightening sensation of falling from a great height as he was pulled into the atmosphere of a world unlike any other. The earth before him quickly gained in size as he drew closer to the planet's surface. The nearer he came to it the quicker its jagged and volatile terrain began to take on a more defined appearance. He felt his mind being summoned towards his final destination like a beacon guiding a lost vessel. A small speck ahead of him came into view, and then closer and closer until he could make out the recognizable figure of a man standing upon the barren surface. Of all the creatures in the known universe, he knew this one more personally than any other.

As his mind finally collided with the image of himself like lightning striking the earth, he could hear himself screaming aloud as his thoughts abruptly invaded his likeness and embodied it as a complete entity. Once the initial shock of it all subsided, he opened his eyes to the world around him and allowed himself to thoroughly scan his surroundings. The land before him appeared sterile and vacant of any life or colour. A harsh and lonely wind howled as it blew past him. He questioned his own senses as the smell of death and decay quickly filled his nostrils, an ability he should not have memory of within their telepathic bond. The scent was so strong, yet so familiar to him as he breathed in the air all around him. And then, as if all the lost memories of his youth had been released from their captivity, he suddenly remembered everything. He had been here before, so many faces ago. Anima Persis.

The dying geo-psychic world, once under the protection of the Galactic Heritage, was known to all of his kind as the home planet of the native Persuaders. A species more commonly believed to be the ghosts of the long-dead inhabitants having succumbed to their fate due to continuous wars there centuries ago. What the Doctor did understand about the planet itself was very little. Its atmosphere was toxic to the flesh of the living. A fine telepathic mist covered the planet's surface making any who would be exposed to it susceptible to the creatures' ability to enter their mind without permission. Anima Persis was more than just the world of the psychic dead, it was a testament to all Time Lords of Gallifrey. A test none had ever passed. Being sent to the planet unprotected and powerless against the creatures' mind control was a part of every Time Lord's training. Its purpose had always been to instil the memory of failure upon those who could survive it, remaining with them forever. Anima Persis was the place where one's hubris and self-righteous sanctimony were sent to die.

The nearby dwarf sun shined down upon him, bringing with it the only light available to the planet's surface. His eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of the creatures but saw nothing that would suggest he was not alone on this world. "Why have you brought me to this place?" the Doctor asked aloud, feeling the presence of the Persuader still prominently linked within his mind. "What happened here?"

Before he could ask anything more, a great blast was heard from high above him as a large ship entered the atmosphere and began to descend upon the planet. The landscape seemed to come alive all around him at the sudden disturbance. A symphony of moaning screams echoed across the land as thousands of Persuaders crawled out of their place of hiding from every crater and rocky cavern in the area. As the ship continued its approach, the creatures swarmed over the terrain like a sea of ash towards the unwelcome arrival.

The Doctor moved closer to better observe the events unfolding as the ship finally touched down upon the earth. This particularly extensive short-ranged vessel was normally intended for mining mass quantities of materials and transporting them to the nearest host station. However, anyone who had knowledge of this planet knew it was not only extremely dangerous but had nothing of value to offer. __So what was it doing here,__ he wondered? Taking a closer look, he noticed the insignia on the side of the ship was that of a red raven. Dread came over him as he realized why the Persuader brought him to this exact moment in time. The sound of an interior hatch depressurizing occurred from within the ship. The loading bay doors opened and a figure emerged from the darkness. __Quynn.__ The Doctor recognized the familiar shape of his daughter as she silently exited the ship. Her long black cloak rustled with the passing breeze. He noticed her shaded mask had been specifically altered for this atmosphere, a type of respirator built onto the front seemed to be filtering out the telepathic mist. Her upgraded armour also appeared to have been enhanced to shield her skin from the toxins in the air. Behind her approached two armed cybernetic life forms, the perfect soldiers to be in the company of when not needing to breathe had become a strategic advantage. Whatever the reason for her journey to this desolate place, only one thing was certain. Her arrival on this planet was not by accident.

Quynn, unafraid of the wave of ash quickly approaching her, stepped foot onto the planet's surface and firmly planted herself between the deadly wall of indigenous species and her ship. The creatures swarmed around the vessel, encircling it like the eye of a great storm. They hissed and displayed their teeth as a hostile warning to the unknown threat standing before them. Quynn slowly scanned the spectacular sight ahead of her, remaining silent within the orchestra of haunting screams she was surrounded by. After a moment, she lifted her hand towards the creatures as if beckoning them to accompany her. To the Doctor's surprise, her gesture appeared almost compassionate as if there were a part of her that actually felt pity for these poor souls who suffered so much loss. He wondered if she really had been telling him the truth after all, that maybe Missy hadn't stolen __everything__ from him. Angered by her presence, the entire colony of spirits howled and screamed with objection at her offer. Their razor-sharp talons glistened like knives in the sunlight as they attempted to frighten the intruders away.

Quynn lowered her hand back to her side at the display of aggression, quietly staring down the countless pairs of vacant eyes within the living cloud of ash floating before her. After a few moments, she glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers behind her and silently bowed her head. The higher ranking of the two nodded its head in return and raised its arm to signal the others still aboard the ship. As Quynn returned her glance to the mass of creatures, the robotic soldier behind her flagged its arm forward then back down to its side.

The Doctor, unprepared for the events unfolding, couldn't help the fear rising inside of him. Knowing what his daughter was capable of, he felt an unexplainable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he continued to observe history being rewritten right before his eyes. Hoping his emotions were simply misguided, he was suddenly startled by the horrifying sound of an explosion coming from somewhere in the distant sky. Spinning around towards the sound, he shielded his eyes as his attention became fixed upon the nearby dwarf sun. Its light seemed to glow brighter and brighter, a ring of debris flared out from its surface like ripples in the water. Before the Doctor could fully understand what was happening, the sky around him darkened as the light from the small star quickly faded from its once vibrant amber shade to become a fiery pit of hell. "NO!" he screamed aloud at the sight of the sun's destruction, immediately realizing the futility of his objection. The planet was in an uproar of deafening screams as thousands of Persuaders scattered in fear.

Far off in the distance, a large fragment from the obliterated star collided with the planet's surface and shook the earth underneath his feet. And then another. The once colourless and barren landscape evolved into a blazing inferno as hellfire rained down upon it from the atmosphere. The images were so real he had become lost in the reality of it. His hearts raced as he fled from his position and headed in the direction of the ship. Another powerful quake brought him to his knees as he fell to the ground from the force of it. The vibrations felt beneath his hands informed him the planet was being torn apart. Soon there would be nothing left of it. Glancing up at the ship, he saw the image of his daughter still standing between the remaining creatures and the safety she provided for them. He watched as she lifted her hand once again towards the frightened creatures and gestured for them to join her. The Persuaders hesitated at first, utterly petrified by the surrounding destruction of their world and entire species. The earth beneath them continued to shake causing giant cracks to form on the surface. Those that stayed with the ship as the rest of their kind fled were now rushing to board it.

Quynn returned her hand to her side, then turned around and headed back into the darkness of the vessel as a mob of creatures rushed passed her into safety. As the loading bay doors began to close, the remaining creatures left behind raced to the ship hoping to be spared from their fate. Before they could reach it, the engines started up and the ship quickly began its ascent off the planet. The Doctor watched in horror as thousands of terrified Persuaders still on the surface desperately cried out as if begging for the ship not to abandon them. The ground below them shook violently as a deep chasm ripped the earth apart and swallowed them all. He was overwhelmed by the resonating broadcast of millions of dying voices tearing through his mind as they screamed out in agony. The sound of their collective howls were so powerful it shattered his link to the Persuader entirely.

The Doctor screamed aloud as his consciousness returned to the real world. He felt his body jolt and his arms fly out from his sides as the Persuader removed itself from inside him. The sensation of it forced him to his knees as he collapsed to the ground. He gasped for air as the unadulterated visions of genocide encompassed his thoughts. He held his face in his hands as the voices inside his head finally began to fade. Once alone in his mind, he angrily lifted his gaze to the Persuader in front of him. "She lied to me," he finally spoke. "She wasn't saving you, she was condemning you. You are all that is left." He hung his head in great sorrow, finally realizing these creatures were no more free from eternal slavery than any other species that had fallen under his daughter's tyranny. "I'm so sorry." His emotions were splitting into multiple spectrums as he thought about everything he just witnessed. He felt betrayed and angered by his daughter's cleverly disguised deception, knowing deep down that it was __she__ who was the superior race hell-bent on conquest. He realized how blind and naive he had become by allowing himself to cling to the last remaining hope that somewhere inside of her was an aspect of good. The pain of everything that happened since the moment he agreed to follow this mystery to its end burned so deep inside him. He feared he no longer had the strength to prevent himself from slipping further into darkness.

Returning his attention to the airborne entity, he couldn't help but feel there was something else he was missing. Something he felt perhaps they didn't want him to know. "Why did you show me this? If you already knew your planet was destroyed, why did you agree to help me?" Though the Persuader remained silent at his question, staring the old man down within the void of its eyes, the Doctor realized he didn't need his telepathy in order to understand what it was thinking. "Ah yes, of course. How stupid of me," he relented, gathering himself from the floor to face the creature. "Revenge. The single most fundamental concept in all the universe. Interpreted an infinite amount of ways. An idea so powerful it has prevailed in one form or another throughout every living species that has ever existed since the beginning of time." He paused as if awaiting some kind of validation from the being's unreadable expression. When there was none, he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm not here to try to convince you not to become just like them. When the time comes for you to do what you feel is right, I will no longer be the one to stand in your way. All I can do is tell you I know exactly what it feels like to have lost everything, to have to spend the rest of your life knowing you're the last of your own kind, to feel hatred towards those that took it all away from you." He risked stepping closer to the creature, the intensity in his mannerisms grew as he approached. "I'm two thousand years old, I've suffered more loss than you can even imagine. And in all that time, do you want to know what I've really learned? What truly matters in the end? No matter the lives that have been lost, our pursuit for justice for what our enemies have done to us will never bring them back. No matter the choice we make, they will still be gone. So, what are we left with? Just one question. The one question that will follow us from this world to the next no matter how hard we try to escape it. The one question with only one answer that will forever haunt us if we are to make that choice. When all has been said that is left to say, when all the damage has been done, the question we must ask ourselves is, 'Was it really worth it?'"

Suddenly realizing the rhetorical nature of his own inquiry, the Doctor exhaled a final sigh and sat himself down upon a nearby storage crate. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands together, resting his chin upon them as he contemplated the deep thoughts now running through his mind. "I wish I could tell you that all will be mended, that I have the power to fix this. But the truth is, I'm fighting an impossible battle against time itself. I'm facing an enemy far greater than any challenge I've ever encountered. And I'm scared. I'm scared I don't have what it takes to defeat them, that I am alone." He returned his eyes to the creature, knowing there was an opportunity floating before him he couldn't afford to lose. "But you, you are not alone in this universe. There are more of you out there suffering in ways I can only imagine. Together we can still save what is left of your kind. Together we may stand a chance. We can stop this before it reaches someone else, before another race is wiped out by their greed. I cannot promise you revenge. All I can promise you is hope for the future of your species. But, if you'd rather take your chances, by all means, I can release you right here on Earth. Bit of a warning though, humans are far less understanding than most anything else you may have encountered on your world. They're easily frightened by the things they do not understand. Whatever your intentions, I'm afraid you won't find any open minds on this planet."

The tension in the air became veritably dense as the old man awaited the creatures' response to his terms. The leader turned its hooded head towards the second of the pair, their indecipherable whispered voices hummed as they communicated with each other. The Time Lord confidently arose to face them, knowing there was still a chance they could just as easily refuse his offer and kill him instead. But he was far too invested in the greater cause of their alliance to allow the chance of gaining the upper hand to slip through his fingers. The darkest hour was upon them, if he could not succeed in gaining their trust there would be nothing to go back to. The most important thing to him now was their partnership. Without it, there would be no future for his family. "The moment of choice has arrived. Our time is quickly running out. I need to know, will you help me?" He offered his hand to them as an act of peace and camaraderie between their species. The Persuader returned its attention to the old man and came forward, its lifeless gaze pierced the Doctor's own. It slowly peered down the length of the man and observed his outstretched arm, then lifted its head to face the desperate pair of eyes staring back at it. After a moment of hesitation, the creature finally lowered its taloned hand onto the Doctor's forearm and wrapped its cold fingers around it to accept the terms of their new alliance. To the Doctor, this moment was more than just history in the making for him. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for to finally beat Missy at her own game. The relief he felt at the sudden turn of events could only be surpassed by the day he knew he finally won. "Good," a wide grin spread across his face at the bond now shared between them, "because I have a plan."

* * *

Works Cited

"Clara and the TARDIS." _Doctor Who Home Video_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Jamie Stone, BBC, 24 September 2013.

"The Snowmen." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Saul Metzstein, season 7, special 11, BBC One, 25 December 2012.

"Journey to the Center of the TARDIS." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Thompson, directed by Mat King, season 7, episode 10, BBC One, 27 April 2013.

"Death Comes to Time." _Doctor Who Webcast_ , written by Colin Meek, directed by Dan Freedman, part 5, BBCI-1, 13 July-3 May 2002.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

 _The Garazone System, 2532 A.D._

The melodic hum of the metal city was felt below her feet as she stepped out of the TARDIS and into the small alcove of a crowded alley. The aroma in the air was suddenly filled with the unfamiliar scent of foods she had never tasted, perfumes she had never inhaled, and people she had never met. The countless unknown species passing by took no notice of her nor the strange blue box she had emerged from as they went about their business in the populous marketplace. The continuous drone of a thousand voices pierced her ears, blending together as one collective symphony. High above her head, a large rust-coloured planet was visible beyond an extensive glass domed ceiling. An unusually thick layer of spacial storm clusters could be seen nearby.

The Doctor exited the box and closed the door behind him. Approaching her side, he slipped his hand into hers and inhaled a deep breath in preparation for their departure. Once ready, he looked to her curious expression and smiled. As many times as he warned himself not to bring her anywhere after their last endeavour on Messaline, he could not resist the look of wonder in her eyes. Little by little, he was finally winning her back. "Okay, let's go," he requested, keeping her close to him as they entered the fast lane of flowing pedestrians.

Her eyes worked quickly to take in every bit of their new surroundings as they manoeuvred through the endless sea of people. Her focus was constantly redirected towards each shouting merchant as they displayed their jewels and tapestries for purchase, held strange exotic animals or offered samples of their home planet's most popular delicacies to lure in potential customers. "Where are we?" Clara shouted over the chatter, trying to avoid being trampled or lost in the masses as he continued to lead her through the crowd.

"The Orion star system, Garazone Central," he called back to her. "The largest interstellar commerce station in the known universe."

"Please tell me you didn't drag me halfway across the galaxy for new parts to your clockwork squirrel," she groaned, dodging as many people as she could as they pushed their way passed them.

"Are __all__ women this difficult to please? You take them out for a day of unlimited shopping and they assume you have an ulterior motive."

"Okay, so why are we really here?" she raised her brow suspiciously, wondering how many shops they intended to pass by before finally stopping at anything even remotely interesting.

"Information," he answered determinedly, remaining focused on getting them through the hordes.

"Right, I'm sure it'll look lovely hanging in my bedroom," she frowned.

The Doctor charted every alley and shop they passed, keeping a mental note of where he parked the TARDIS in case they found themselves having to return to it very quickly. His eyes scanned each building and internal passageway housed within the large space station, gathering strategic Intel in the off-chance it would become useful to them later. Along the corridor walls, he observed various hospitable amenities, bank tellers, communication terminals, vendors, and elevators; everything one might need to ensure their extended stay was well worth the trip. As they passed into the next alley, the lights inside the domed structure began to flicker and dim for a few moments before returning to full power.

"What was that?" she stopped suddenly, having noticed the unusual sight. Though no one else seemed to have been affected by the sudden malfunction.

"Ion storm. You learn to get used to them," he answered, unphased by the brief darkness.

"Are we safe in here?" she asked before quickly reminding herself that wherever the Doctor was, some aspect of danger was sure to follow.

Returning to her side, he placed his arm around her waist to herd her safely through the crowd as he spoke. "I'd be more concerned with what's out there than what's in here," he gestured towards the ceiling at the strange clouds forming in the surrounding space. "This station is over a century old, the first of its kind to be built with an energy shield strong enough to withstand the destructive nature of the ion storms. By the turn of the twenty-sixth century, it had become the most successful trade-way in existence, luring hundreds of thousands of visitors and merchants since the end of the last Cyber War. Think of it as a sort of interstellar sideshow attraction, a space Route Sixty-Six."

"So you've been here before then?"

"Oh yes, plenty of times. Although not always with the same face. Comes in handy when you find yourself on the wrong end of a negotiation gone sour and banished from the market forever," he grinned as if caught in the moment between the present and the remnants of his past escapades.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, you called them an idiot and somehow managed to get yourself arrested?"

"That was __one__ time! And no. I called him a thieving con-artist trying to sell me a shop full of lies. Apparently, they take merchant slandering very seriously around here."

"In other words, just a typical day for you."

"It would take a lot more than a few hours behind bars to keep me away," he assured her, somewhat distracted by his senses drawing him closer towards their intended destination. "Besides, I've learned my lesson. There's nothing to worry about. You'll come to find the species here are mostly friendly... ish."

"Ish?"

"Ah, here we are!" He stopped as his eyes became fixed on the entrance of a strange looking establishment. The sign above the door read "Otto's Robotics" in bright neon lettering. Opening the door for her, she stepped inside while he scanned the crowd for any suspicious looking characters who might have seen them enter. Satisfied with their apparent transparency, he proceeded inside and closed the door behind him. Taking a closer look around, he became instantly attracted to all the wonders inside as would a child in a candy store. From augmented limbs to computer circuits, it was practically a cybernetic playground just waiting to be explored.

A pair of voices originating from the front of the room brought his attention to the shop clerk and his customer, both of which had multiple aspects of their bodies upgraded or replaced with robotic technology. A third man, whom the Doctor identified as a subspecies of the Silurian race, stood guard at a door behind the shopkeeper. The traditional battlesuit most commonly worn by his species had been replaced by a vest of furs and decorated with trophies possibly obtained in combat from previous engagements with his enemies.

Keeping a discreet but watchful eye on his companion, he continued to peruse the merchandise undisturbed as the shopkeeper assisted his other patron. While Clara had taken interest in an unusually designed robotic bird sitting peacefully behind its iron cage, he stuck to examining the magnitude of small gadgets on display as they waited. His eye caught the familiar sight of an early edition electoliser, its pieces still intact. It had been so long since the last time he used one he barely remembered how they worked. Turning it around to examine its intricate design, he was struck by the electric shock emitting from it. He winced quietly to himself and shook the pain from his hand, glancing around to see if anyone had been witness to his embarrassment. Once certain he was safe from wandering eyes, he replaced the gadget on the shelf as inconspicuously as possible. A moment later, the customer thanked the clerk for his help then proceeded to the exit. Now alone, Clara and the Doctor made their way towards the counter where the shopkeeper was eagerly awaiting them. "Your shop is quite impressive," the old man addressed him. "The salvage industry must be fairing rather well these days."

"If it's parts your searching for, you've come to the right place. You'll find no other collection that compares. Whatever you seek, I can procure... for the right price," he replied, grinning towards the pair.

"I'm afraid I don't have any money," the Doctor confessed.

"Oh, I'm sure something __else__ can be arranged," he looked towards Clara, leaning over the counter to examine her with interest. "How much for the female?"

"Sorry, what?" she uttered in shock.

The old man eyed the cyborg, his brows furrowing as he stepped closer to block her from his view. He leaned his hands upon the counter and glared at the man intensely. "That depends. What are you offering?" Before the man could respond, he felt the sudden shock of pain as Clara smacked him in the arm. "Ow!" he cried, holding his affliction with care as her furious expression glared back at him. He then turned his attention back to the man, "I'm terribly sorry, this one appears to have developed a fault." A moment of uneasy silence fell between the two men before they burst into laughter and shook hands with each other.

"It's good to see you again, old friend," the robotic man claimed.

"You haven't aged a day," replied the old man.

"Wait, hang on. You two know each other?" she asked, housing a dangerous combination of confusion and anger.

"Of course!" the Doctor exclaimed with a wide smile. "Otto and I go __way__ back."

"It's true, I owe this man my life," Otto claimed. "How long has it been, Doctor?"

"For you or for me?"

He laughed and shook his head, "The Doctor and his infamous blue box. How is the old girl these days? Keeping you out of trouble?"

"She certainly tries," he grinned.

"Not hard enough it would seem. Word around the city is you're a wanted man. I hear the reward is quite substantial for anyone that can manage to bring you in alive."

"Yes, well, they'll have to catch me first," he replied brassily.

"Aye, that they would," the clerk smiled and turned his attention towards Clara. "And who is this lovely young lass? Your better half by the look of it."

"Ah, yes," the Doctor confirmed, smiling sincerely at the presence of his companion despite her current agitation. Placing his arm around her, he politely urged her forward.

"Clara, this is Otto. Otto, this is my Clara."

"A pleasure, ma'am," the cyborg nodded, studying the pair with warm regard. "So, what brings you back to this section of the solar system? Nothing of a serious matter I hope."

"I'm looking for information. I hear you're the man with the answers."

"That depends entirely on the question," he replied tenuously.

The Doctor leaned in towards the man, bringing an aspect of privacy to their conversation. "What can you tell me about the Raven?" he asked, studying the man's expression carefully.

"Never heard of him," Otto answered nervously.

"Oh come now, I've come a long way," the Time Lord persisted. "I have no intention of leaving here empty-handed. You haven't been reconsidering the value of our trust, have you?" The reluctance displayed on his friend's face indicated that maybe he __had__ been away from this place for too long. "I can assure you, whatever information you can give me will never leave this room. No one will ever know. Unless, of course, you've something to hide?" the Time Lord prodded.

Before Otto could reply, the door to the street opened and a partial cyber-being entered the room to sift through the merchandise. The shopkeeper cleared his throat and leaned in towards the Doctor. "This conversation is best continued behind closed doors," he said, cocking his head towards the rear of the shop. "Follow me." The three of them headed towards the guarded door. As they reached the large Silurian, Otto turned around and faced the pair to stop them with a stern but apologetic expression. "The girl must stay."

The old man quickly glanced towards his companion then back at the robotic man. "Clara's with me. Wherever I go, she goes," he insisted.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but women are forbidden beyond this point. I'm afraid her presence would bring… __unwanted__ attention. I would not be able to guarantee her safety," he admitted. Reaching up, he patted the Silurian on the shoulder and smiled. "Not to worry though, my man Flaax here will see to it that she is properly taken care of."

"No deal. She's my friend, not a spare part. I'm not going to just leave her in the hands of some overgrown reptile in a monkey suit-"

"It's alright, Doctor," she interrupted, placing her hand on his arm to stop him before he managed to say anything that would get himself in trouble again. "We'll be fine, don't worry about us. Now go get what we came here for."

Sighing and grumbling irritably to himself, he pulled her aside and pointed a strict finger in her direction. "No wandering off. Stay where I can find you. If there's trouble, you know what to do." He couldn't help but feel an immediate sense of regret for agreeing to abandon her in the care of someone else.

She nodded in understanding, watching as Otto opened the door and the two men disappeared behind it. Turning around, she found herself face to face with the giant lizard-beast. His green eyes glared down at her with intrigue. "So, Flaax is it?" she asked nervously. "Is there a Missus Flaax?"

The Doctor followed Otto closely as he led them through the dark narrow passage. Reaching the end, the room before them opened up to reveal a sort of back-shop repair station. A series of dimly lit supply cages created a pathway through the darkness. At first glance, there seemed to be nothing unusual or potentially dangerous about this place aside from the unpleasant odour of machine oil and sweat. The sound of metal being welded together caught his attention as he glanced towards the blue flickering light. He noticed a man wearing a metallic helmet over his face halted his work to examine the newcomer in silence. The robotic arm resting in front of him twitched and moved its finger-like digits as if it had come alive.

As they headed towards the next room, the Doctor could hear a series of voices laughing and shouting from within. Approaching the doorway, Otto led them into a common room where several different species of large males were seated around a small table engaged in some kind of unusual card game. His presence in the room caused them to rise abruptly from their seats, their chairs dragging noisily across the floor. They silently glared at the man with murderous eyes. The Doctor froze where he stood, unsure of what he just walked into. From the darkened corner of the room, a bipedal creature rushed towards him barking and growling loudly. Startled by the noise, the Doctor stepped back as the creature quickly approached. Just before reaching him, the animal was yanked to a stop mere inches from the old man. The beast yelped and tugged at the shackle and chain around its neck which held him back. The Doctor analysed the creature from where it stood. Its body and snout covered in fur, he recognized it as a member of the canine-like species known as the Garm. Though known for its strength and gentle nature, this one appeared rabid and vengeful. Its red eyes burned fiercely as it glared him.

"He's with me," Otto addressed the animal. The Garm growled and sniffed the air, then retreated back to the corner where only its bright red eyes could be seen through the darkness. "Come," he requested, gesturing for the Doctor to accompany him into the next room. Though hesitant, he reluctantly followed after him if only to escape from the aggressive unwelcoming glances in his direction. Once inside, the Doctor found himself in what appeared to be a large furnished office space with a window view of the marketplace. A series of cabinets lined the wall, a desk and some chairs sat nearby. "You'll have to excuse them, we don't get many visitors around here," the robotic man said, closing the door behind them.

"Can't imagine why," the Doctor replied facetiously. "And what of the Garm? Why are you keeping him chained to a wall?" he asked, trying to maintain his anger over the creature's apparent captivity.

"He is no prisoner here," Otto assured him. "He can take his shackles off whenever he wants to," he added, heading for the cabinets and stopping at one of the shelves. "I picked him up on a trade route a while back, more like a rescue really. His owner was a rare species collector. Kept him locked in a cage for most of his life."

"Then why not set him free? Surely he'd rather be with his own kind than trapped here on this station."

"He is free to come and go as he pleases. He chooses to stay here with me because I'm the one that saved him. He has accompanied me on numerous salvage runs over the years. I've given him every opportunity to find his own way but he wishes to stay by my side. It's gratitude and loyalty that keeps him here, not ownership. A bit like your companions, wouldn't you say?"

"It's not the same thing," he argued, somewhat irritated by the accusation.

"Isn't it?" he inquired, retrieving a pair of glass goblets from their place and setting them down on the surface in front of him. Locating a bottle of neon green liquid, he opened the top and began pouring its contents into one of the cups. "If you ask me, he wears the collar because it reminds him of his past, the only life he had ever known before coming here. Transition can be a very difficult process to overcome. It's a shame really. All that freedom and no idea what to do with it. I'll admit he's a bit on the untamed side, but I can assure you he's completely harmless." Taking up the glass, he made his way towards the Doctor. "If anything, it's the others I'd be worried about. They're easily threatened by strangers and quick to violence. Good for business, bad for friendships," he confessed, offering him the drink.

"None for me, thanks. I'm on duty."

Otto shrugged and toasted on his behalf, then sipped at the elixir and took a seat behind his desk. "So, I see you've traded in the notorious bachelor's life. Congratulations, my friend. Of all the men I've ever met, I never thought you'd be the type to settle down."

"Yes, I've been hearing that a lot lately," the Doctor replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. Seizing the moment to take a closer look around the room, he couldn't help but notice that his friend appeared to be doing rather well for himself these days.

"She's very attractive, your companion. I can see why you're protective of her."

"I owe her more than just my protection. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that she and the child's future are in good hands."

"This Clara of yours, she must be of great importance to risk bringing her to this place after what happened the last time you were here," he noted, glancing out the window as if focused on a particular memory of the past. "Much has changed since then, Doctor. Nothing is sacred anymore. These are very dangerous times, my friend. If the wrong people were to discover you here, there would be nothing I could do to stop them from handing you over to higher authorities. A smarter man would have stayed away from this place, especially now with a child on the way."

"Yes, well, I've come to find my choices on the matter are severely limited," he sighed, taking the vacant seat across from him. "I'm well aware that bringing her here was a calculated risk, one I have considered very carefully. Though it is good to see you, I'm afraid our visit here is not a social one. My dealings with the Raven have brought more consequence than I could have ever imagined. The day to day thrill of living the life of a fugitive on the run has long since worn off. Which is why I've come to you. I need your help. I need to know what you know."

Otto observed the desperation in his friend's eyes. Whatever happened must have been truly severe enough to find himself in Garazone of all places looking for aid. In the past, he would have jumped at the chance to repay the Doctor for his kindness. But now, if anyone were to find out the Doctor had come to see him or was assisted in any way, he'd be tried and convicted as an accomplice. Which put himself and his business in an unfortunate predicament. "When it comes to the Raven, you can trust me when I say we have a common enemy. The army of the Shade have claimed the lives of many of my own brethren, all good men. Nowhere is safe from their reach, not even here. Even now, their forces patrol this sector with intent to eliminate those in league with the rebellion against them. If you are indeed at the mercy of the Raven and his army as you say you are, then there is a good chance they already know you are here. Whatever trouble you have found yourself in, for the sake of my family, I cannot help you," he confessed, ashamed of his own cowardice.

"I see," the Time Lord spoke disappointedly, "that is unfortunate." Rising from his seat, he returned his hands to his pockets and slowly paced about the room. The thoughts running through his mind were entirely unlike him, the lowest point he could possibly reach yet still leaving a small trace of his true self behind. When it came to desperate times, there was no tactic in his arsenal he wouldn't consider. Everything he had been through thus far had brought him to this point. Every trail, every breadcrumb he followed led him here. He refused to believe he had come all this way for nothing. "How is your family by the way? Well, I trust, since last I saw them," he suggested, in contempt of his own indignant emotions as they began to fester inside of him. "How fortunate for you that I arrived just in time to spare them from becoming just another tragedy in a war they had no part of. If it hadn't been for me, their story would have ended ages ago. If I hadn't intervened, their fate would have been left to someone else. Someone, perhaps, who wouldn't have felt their lives were in need of saving." He approached the desk and leaned his hands upon its surface. "And if you were in my position, would you do everything in your power to protect them? Would you fight for them?"

Otto eyed the old man. Though his words struck him down to his core, they bore a much greater truth behind them. Without the Doctor, there would have been no family to go back to. The man standing before him was responsible for saving the most important thing this war-torn galaxy had to offer, never asking for anything in return. As long as he still lived, he would forever be gratefully indebted to him. "Aye, I would," he professed. He ran a hand down his face and sighed deeply knowing he was about to regret his next words. "What is it you want to know?"

"Everything. Starting with why they are here. What is their interest in the Garazone system?"

"No one knows for sure," he answered, downing the last bit of liquid from his glass. Rising from his seat, he headed back to the cabinet and began pouring himself another drink. "This station was once under the protection of the Merchant Space Corps. Their job was to ensure all trades were legal and fair, trafficking had become a thing of the past. There was peace here." He turned around to face the Doctor and leaned back against the cabinet. "Several years ago, the MSC was taken over by the Shade army. They managed to integrate themselves into our systems, they blended into our society as if they had always been here. They took control over everything."

"But why here? Why this place? What possible significance could one merchant colony have over an entire army?" the Doctor wondered, trying to piece together the information like a giant frustrating jigsaw puzzle.

"He who controls the commerce controls the people. This is the largest trade station in existence. They know what materials are coming in, they know who is buying them. Anything of use to them they seize for their own benefit, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves. Any who refuse to abide by their laws are either taken away or slaughtered like animals. Those who were fortunate enough to escape this place took what they could and abandoned their businesses to be scavenged by the rest of us."

"Why didn't you leave with them? Why stay here?" he asked, angered by how bad the situation had become in his absence.

"Garazone is my home. That shop is my livelihood. All of my children and grandchildren were born here. You would ask me why I didn't force my family into refuge, into a future that is uncertain? We are no safer out there than we are in here."

The Doctor sighed, knowing first hand what it felt like to fear that which dwelt just beyond his blue doors. But if he didn't find a way to stop his daughter and her destructive forces, there would be nowhere else left safe to run to. "Tell me about the rebellion."

"There isn't much to tell. A few attempts were made to take out their armies, to return control of the station to the people. But the Shade was always one step ahead as if they knew what was about to happen. Those in cooperation with the rebellion turned on each other, suspecting there was a spy among them. Many of its members ended up selling the names of others for profit and immunity. The rebellion quickly fell apart. Those who were convicted of treason against the Raven were taken into custody, never to be seen or heard from again. Many of those men were my friends. They were like family to me. And now they're gone."

"Any idea where they may have been taken?" the Doctor asked, trying to find a weakness he could work with.

"I wish I did. Ever since the purge, security has become even tighter. All I could find out about them is the guard here is switched out every four weeks. The old set goes out and a new one comes in. Like clockwork."

"So wherever they're taking the prisoners must be close by, located somewhere within the same solar system or a neighbouring one. At least that narrows it down a bit," he said, pacing and rubbing the back of his neck while trying to paint a broader picture in his mind. "The Shade, who controls them? Where do they get their orders from?"

"All transmissions come through the tower," he answered, gesturing out the window towards a tall structure beyond the dome. "Only members of the army have access to it now. They maintain all messages from the outside. Many of us haven't heard news from those living on the surface in months."

The Doctor continued to pace in mild frustration as he thought about what was missing from the story. There was always some aspect left unaccounted for, some obvious clue staring him in the face. All he had to do was open his eyes. "And what about the buyers? Surely they must have ties to the outside. How do they communicate with their home planets from here?"

"The terminals. Anyone can access them, but like everything else around here they are strictly monitored."

The old man stopped suddenly and spun around towards his friend. "Are they hard-wired?" His expression quickly shifted towards enthusiastic curiosity.

"What?"

The Doctor approached the robotic man and took hold of his shoulders to draw his focus. "The terminals, are they wired to the station?" he repeated, this time urgently.

"Aye, but what does that matter? Any tampering and the Shade will be on you within minutes."

"Trust me, that's all I'll need," he assured him, releasing his friend and heading for the door.

"What are you going to do?" Otto asked, strangely confused by the sudden turn of events.

"What I always do," the Doctor stopped and glanced back at him, a confident grin spread across his face. "I'm going to save the universe."

"I've seen that look in your eyes before," he noted, concerned his friend was about to do something very stupid. "Don't be a fool, Doctor. You're going to get yourself killed out there. Think of your family," he pleaded.

The old man approached his friend and placed a caring hand upon his shoulder. "I may die, yes. But nothing will ever stop me from thinking about them, not even death. No matter the risk, every breath I take that pushes me forward is dedicated to them," he replied sincerely.

Otto let out a sigh and ran a hand across his metal scalp in conflicted silence. He feared his friend was on a direct path to suicide, but going at it alone would only bring him closer to ensuring that fate. He was torn between the consequences awaiting his own life if the Doctor were to fail or living the rest of his days in regret knowing he could have helped but succumbed to his own fear. Making up his mind, he reluctantly nodded in favour of his friend. "I'll buy you some time, it's the least I can do."

"Goodbye, old friend," the Doctor smiled gratefully.

"Until we meet again, Doctor," replied the robotic man.

Making his way back through the small labyrinth of metal cages and darkened corridors, he finally reached the rear entrance of Otto's shop. He opened the door expecting to see his companion and her reptilian babysitter exactly where he left them but discovered the shop to be entirely vacant of any life forms. "Clara?" he called, hoping her shortened stature was hiding somewhere amongst the shelves. When there was no answer, he instantly became concerned. Searching every square inch of the room, she was nowhere to be seen. Great panic began to rise inside of him. He scolded his own stupidity for not having listened to his previous instincts. Reaching the door, he flung it open and stepped outside into the sea of people. "Clara?!" he called again, ignoring the stares in his direction from the strange people passing by. He circled around his position and frantically scanned the area for any sign of her. "Clara!" he screamed, now terribly frightened of what may have become of her. His voice was drowned out by the howl of chatter amongst the crowd. His mind began to torment itself with horrific thoughts of her capture and probable torture by their enemies. He shook the images from his mind attempting to remain on the positive side that perhaps she had just become lost somewhere nearby. He tried to remind himself of the fact they had been separated many times before and always found each other again, but somehow this time felt different. Their days spent parading around as partners in crime had evolved into something much more meaningful to him. The gaps left open by their independent vulnerabilities were inherently filled by each other's strengths, a dependency he had greatly become accustomed to. Without it, he felt as though he'd been left to bleed out by her absence.

As he desperately scanned each passing face, a familiar sound heard from within the orchestra of foreign voices caused him to lock onto it hoping it would lead him to its source. A sound so describable he could pick it out of any crowd; her laughter. Following her voice across the path, he finally saw her seated across from three large male creatures. He recognized one of them to be the Silurian from Otto's shop. The lot of them were laughing hysterically amongst each other while engaged in whatever humorous conversation kept their attention. The Doctor's brows furrowed as he approached them. The ground below their feet had been replaced by a long row of metal grating. A fine mist-like substance expelling from the small openings engulfed them in a glistening cloud of fog. Reaching her side, he glared down at her with great displeasure. "Time to go," he stated hostilely.

Glancing up towards the old man, she burst with laughter at the sight of his frowning face. The Doctor expelled an irritated sigh and waited for her to get it all out of her system. Once composed, she lifted a small silver trinket and held it out in front of her. "Look, Doctor. They've made me a Royal member of the pack."

"Yes, I see," he eyed her, taking notice of the significant change in her demeanour. "Sorry to intrude on your commencement ceremony, Your Majesty, but we still have a mission to complete."

She returned her attention to the others and pouted playfully, "Sorry boys, __granddad__ has come to spoil the fun." A sudden uproar of jeers initiated as they booed and hissed his presence.

The Doctor gritted his teeth and attempted to keep his fury from boiling over. Glancing back to Clara, he could sense something was undoubtedly amiss about her. The irreversible illness continuing to spread throughout her mind no longer seemed to be the only thing in control of her behaviours. He noticed her brow was damp, but it was not being caused by sweat. He inquisitively reached out and allowed the mist to collect on his skin. Rubbing his fingers together, he analysed the vapour's consistency and quickly identified the foreign substance. Returning his attention to his companion's flushed face, he raised his brow suspiciously. "Clara, are you intoxicated?" he accused her.  
She couldn't help but laugh at the old man's ridiculous question. "Don't be stupid. You honestly think I'd go around accepting drinks from strange aliens?" She glanced back at them, "No offence."

"Oh? And what exactly do you think you've been sitting in all this time, a sauna?" he asked angrily, observing as the answer to his question appeared to be lost somewhere within her insensible stupor. He sighed with frustration and rolled his eyes at her ignorance. Gently wiping her brow with his fingers, he placed his hand in front of her face. "You see this? This is euphoric biomist, an airborne concoction of highly concentrated amounts of ethanol and psychedelic amphetamines. You've been breathing in large quantities of it since the moment you sat down. You might as well be swimming in it."

"I thought it felt a bit damp out here," she responded wittily, joining the others in uncontrollable snickering.

"Why Clara Oswald, you are hilarious," he noted with heated sarcasm. Having had enough of the conversation and feeling rather irate towards his heavily pregnant companion's inebriated condition, he reached over and took her by the arm to pull her up. "Come on, we're leaving," he demanded.

The males stood aggressively at the scene developing before them. "Is this old __man__ disturbing you?" the smaller one asked of their new female pack member.

"I dunno," Clara raised her brow at the question and turned her attention towards the Doctor, "are you?"

"No," he insisted irritably.

The largest of the three approached the intruder, towering over him with intimidating closeness. "She stays."

The Doctor glared at the giant beast blocking his path, "Ah, you must be the boss one. I can tell, you're the ugliest." The creature frowned at the insult and growled angrily at the man. The Doctor stepped closer, throwing all concerns for his safety aside to stand his ground against the leader of the pack. "The girl belongs to me," he insisted, unwilling to back down from the aggression forming between them.

"Do I?" she asked, starting to feel the strange combination of confusion and disorientation taking its toll on her.

"Yes, you do," he replied adamantly then glanced back towards the tower of ugly standing before him. "I didn't come here to start a fight with you. But if that is what it's going to take, just know I am prepared to fight fiercely for her. You might win by strength alone, but not before you're arrested for disturbing the peace. Unless, of course, you're looking to bring that kind of attention to yourself." He peered over the beast's shoulder to where a small troupe of the Shade were busy patrolling the streets, the first actual sight of their presence there since they first arrived. The Doctor realized he was gambling with his own fate by threatening to involve the army in their squabble. The creature could just as easily call his bluff and allow them to be summoned. Of the two of them, one was bound to be more prized over the other. It all came down to which one of them was better equipped at avoiding capture.

The beast turned his head towards the direction of the soldiers who were slowly but surely making their way closer, then returned his attention to the old man. The Doctor couldn't help but wonder if the small rodent spinning its wheel inside the brute's head was working overtime during all of this unnecessary silence. After a moment, the beast reluctantly conceded their stand-off with each other and moved aside. The Doctor seized the opportunity of verbal victory to take Clara's hand and lead her away in a hurry before the soldiers reached them.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like that before," she declared, impressed by the way he stood up to the others despite being outmassed in nearly every way. His grip on her hand tightened as he continued to lead them further away from the group. As he pulled her, she started to feel an odd sensation in her body as if she were floating behind him. The shades of colour contained within every thread of fabric had become exceptionally vibrant. "Doctor?" she called to him, starting to realize he may have been right about the mist. He chose to ignore her, remaining silent as he concentrated on keeping her within his grasp. "Doctor," she called again, taking notice of his quieted discontent, "are you cross with me?"

"Cross?" he called back to her bitterly. "I'm gone for five minutes and you can barely even walk!"

She scowled at his judgemental accusation. "Another five and you might have sold me to the highest bidder!" she bit back.

"Yes, well, maybe I should have! Probably would've gotten a nice throw rug out of it just for the trouble," he yelled. "I told you not to wander off! You never listen!"

"I was perfectly fine! I had everything under control, they weren't going to hurt me!" she assured him.

"Oh? Did they tell you that before or after they planned on eating you for dinner?"

Clara let out an aggravated sigh behind gritted teeth, choosing not to voice her opinion on his ridiculous allegation. The constant battle to prove to him she could be trusted on her own was a continuously gruelling experience. The only thing he seemed to be able to trust her with was protecting the part of him growing within her. "Where are we going?" she changed the subject.

"Following a lead. While you were off gallivanting with your new best friends, one of us actually had a job to do," he replied, holding back his anger as they headed towards their next destination.

"Are you jealous?" she laughed, scoffing at his sour disposition.

"No," he told her, finally spotting what he had been searching for. Just ahead of them, he discovered an unoccupied terminal and quickly pulled her towards it.

"Admit it! You're jealous," she accused him.

"No. But if you'd like, I could always send you back," he responded spitefully. Reaching the terminal, he retrieved the sonic from his breast pocket and pointed it towards the screen. "Now be quiet, I need to concentrate." He began scanning the user interface and worked hurriedly to decrypt the security systems as Clara leaned against the wall to glower beside him. The feel of her eyes burning a hole into the side of his face was even more distracting than if she had been speaking. "If you're up to feeling useful, don't hesitate to keep a lookout," he suggested, knowing full well he was treading dangerously into the female forbidden zone. The heat emanating off her gaze could have melted entire ice caps.

She irritably crossed her arms and moved away from the wall to peer around the corner. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're angry," she admitted as a small smile forced its way to her lips.

"You should see me when I'm furious. Absolutely adorable," he replied, working as fast as he could to break through their defences.

Clara did her best to scan the stampede of passing people for potential threats, glancing only once over her shoulder to watch as the father of her child worked intently on the computer in front of him. She smiled and allowed her gaze to drift down towards her middle, reminding herself how much she truly loved the infuriating man who made a mother of her. Lifting her attention back to the crowd, her smile began to fade as her eyes focused upon the familiar symbol of a red raven parting its way through the crowd. "Doctor," she called to him.

"Not yet," he tried to quiet her, having made it past the first barrier of protected information.

The raven began to multiply in quantity, spreading like a virus to the other soldiers now emerging from the masses. She observed intently as the soldiers drew closer to their location, feeling very unsure how much time they had remaining before they were inevitably discovered. "Doctor, someone's coming."

"I'm nearly there," he replied, unwilling to abandon his work.

One of the soldiers stopped in the crowd and brought a hand to his ear as if receiving orders. Looking around, his attention was pulled towards their location. She tried to act as inconspicuous as possible but feared it was already too late. "Doctor, please hurry."

"Almost…"

She watched in fear as the soldier signalled to the others and pointed in the direction of the terminal. The small group began to cut through the crowd like a pride of lions on the hunt until they were but a few meters away. "Doctor!" she cried.

"Got it!" he called out just in time, witnessing as a line of numbers and decimals flashed upon the screen. "So, that's where you've been hiding," he said aloud to himself. Just then, an alarm began to sound throughout the station causing the pair of them to freeze where they stood.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Clara called to him, hoping the alert was just a coincidence.

"Around me, it's usually an inevitability," he admitted.

"Stop! Thief!" a voice announced nearby. Startled, the Doctor searched for the source, his gaze meeting the face of his old friend. Great fear crept up from within him as they locked eyes with each other. The robotic man glared at the Time Lord then raised his arm and pointed off into the distance in the opposite direction. "Come quickly, he's getting away!" he cried, directing as many of the soldiers as he could towards an unsuspecting buyer. The soldiers immediately gathered themselves and quickly headed away from the terminal.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief and nodded in appreciation towards his friend. "Time to leave!" he declared, taking her hand in his and pulling her towards the direction of the TARDIS.

* * *

"What are you looking for?" she asked, watching him from a safe distance on the lower platform as objects were flung like projectiles from their place on the shelf.

"Sobriety capsule. You never know when you're going to need one. There's no telling how your body has been reacting to all the alien toxins coursing through your veins," he answered, digging through a drawer.

"You touched it too, why haven't you been experiencing any side effects?"

"I have, but I'm much more resilient to them than you." His hands rustled around the inside of the drawer until they came upon a familiar object. "Ah, there you are," he said, pulling a small syringe from its resting place and holding it up to the light. "This should do the trick, might make you a bit sleepy. But first, we'll have to get you out of those contaminated clothes." He made his way down the stairs towards her with the syringe in hand.

A provocative smile spread across her lips as she began undressing herself in front of him. He uncomfortably cleared his throat and glanced away as she stripped down to nothing. Tossing her undergarments aside, she slowly approached him. The fire within her burned even brighter as the elixir's potency grew in strength. Each wave of passionate emotion inside of her felt as if it were pouring out of every extremity. Reaching him, she raised her hand and allowed her fingers to lightly trace down his arm. She glanced down and gently pulled the syringe from his grasp, carefully setting it down on the console beside them.

"Clara, what are you doing?" he asked, raising his brow.

"Nothing we haven't done before." She smiled and brought her hands to his chest, experiencing every sensation of her skin's increased sensitivity to touch.

"I'm not doing this with you right now, not while you're like this," he insisted, though remained entranced by her closeness.

"What's the matter? Is the big bad Time Lord afraid of a little adventure?" she asked coyly, taking his hand in hers to place it tenderly upon her cheek. The feel of his skin on hers caused her body to tremble with euphoria. A small gasp escaped her at the sensation, feeling every beat of her heart as it quickened in rhythm.

"You're not yourself," he noted, trying to take control of the situation.

"What's wrong with that?" she raised her brow seductively.

"Your pupils are dilated. Your pulse is elevated. I'd say there's a lot wrong with that."

"Maybe it isn't the mist," she spoke softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss upon his neck.

"Don't," he stopped her, watching as she leaned away to gaze at him with a painfully wounded expression.

"Don't you want me, Doctor?"

He sighed and gently traced the tips of his fingers over the surface of her cheek and through her hair. Cupping her head in his hand, he peered deeply into her eyes. "You know I do."

"Then take what is rightfully yours," she whispered, gently guiding him by his jacket towards the console.

"Clara," he whispered, trying to resist the power she had over his love for her. Her back flushed against the machine, she pulled his body against hers. He braced himself on either side of her, being careful not to harm the child being pressed between them. The heat emitting off of her penetrated through every layer of cloth as her temperature began to rise from their intimate embrace. He gasped at the sensation of her hands moving down his chest and stomach, wanting so badly to feel her skin against his. He rested his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, gripping the console tightly in an attempt to fight his own impulses. Resisting the temptation to feel himself inside of her again was unbearable. Everything he was experiencing at that moment was pure torture, but to pursue her any further would be taking advantage of her vulnerable state of mind. As much as he yearned for her affection, he knew the longer she endured the effects of the drug the more damage was being done to her and the baby. He inhaled a deep breath and leaned away to see her face. Taking her cheek in the palm of his hand, he gazed apologetically into her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" she replied with concern. "For what?"

"For this," he answered, having already retrieved the syringe while she was distracted and quickly stuck it into the side of her neck.

"Ow!" she cried angrily, holding her affliction with care. "What was that fo-?" she tried to say before her legs gave out and she began to fall to the side.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, catching her in his arms. "You're alright, I've got you."

"Doctor? What did you just give me?" she managed to ask, feeling betrayed by his actions.

"A mild sedative," he assured her.

"Mild?"

"I, uh, may have underestimated the dosage a bit," he admitted, struggling to lift her into his arms. Glancing down at her face, her eyes began to close as she drifted off into deep slumber. "Oh Clara," he sighed sincerely, "you truly are my impossible girl." Holding her tightly, he carried her out of the room to rest.

* * *

The Doctor was busy at the view-screen when a shuffling noise heard from behind him caught his attention. Turning around, he noticed the familiar presence of his companion making her way into the heart of the room wearing one of his old shirts. Though her hair was a disaster and her make-up worn off, she still looked as beautiful as she always had. "Ah, there she is. Back to the land of the living, are we?" he greeted her, smiling in her direction. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a coma patient, no thanks to you," she scowled at him as she made her way to the centre of the room. "You really know how to show a girl a good time," she groaned, leaning her elbow on the console to hold her aching forehead in her palm.

Treading lightly, he ran his hand along the edge of the machine until he was standing beside her. He cleared his throat and inconspicuously attempted to define the status of their current understanding of one another. "Are you cross with me?" he asked, now feeling her despondence towards him electrifying the air.

"More than a little," she replied from under her breath.

"Why?"

"Why?" she glared up at him angrily. "Because you drugged me, you idiot! That's why!"

"To be fair, I __un__ -drugged you then drugged you again," he explained, slowly retreating in the off-chance he was in danger of being hit by verbal shrapnel.

"Sorry, how is that better?" she asked, eyeing him fiercely.

"Well, you looked like you could have used the rest."

She approached him until she found herself standing as close to him as her body would allow it. "Yes, well, the next time you feel the urge to stab someone in the neck, make sure they aren't within swinging distance of your face."

"Noted," he conceded, glancing down at his small but deadly counterpart.

Backing off, she headed to the view-screen to observe what he had been working on during her exceptionally long nap. "Did you find what you were looking for then?"

"It would appear so," he answered, cautiously heading back to her side.

"And?"

"Well," he sighed, "there's good news and bad."

"Why am I not surprised?" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Well, go on then."

Bringing the screen down to her, he began tapping on its surface until it stopped at a section of charted space. "The good news is I was able to trace the transmission signal to the Justica prison system at the edge of the Mutter's Spiral." He zoomed in and pointed towards a series of planets surrounding three separate suns. "The bad news is we won't be able to come within two light-years of the system's auto-beacons without being detected. And even if we somehow managed to get passed them, the entire cluster of planets is protected by a deflection barrier ten billion miles wide."

"Sounds like someone's really keen on their privacy. So, how do we get in then?"

"We don't. Not unless you've always wanted to know what three meals a day behind bars felt like."

"Not exactly the spot I would have chosen to have a baby, but around you anything is possible," she teased, allowing a small smile to pass along her face as she looked to him.

"The only way to land on one of these six planets is if we are invited in," he explained.

"Invited? What, like a mailing list or something?"

"Or something," he answered, moving away from her.

"You're doing the face again," she noted, observing the way he was trying to avoid being read by her. "Should I be worried?"

"Well, I have a plan," he confessed, running his hands down his face, then turned around to confront her, "but I don't think you're going to like it."

* * *

Works Cited

"Under the Lake." _Doctor Who_ , written by Toby Whithouse, directed by Daniel O'Hara, season 9, episode 3, BBC One, 3 October 2015.

"Sword of Orion." _Doctor Who Audio Story_ , written and directed by Nicholas Briggs, number 17, Big Finish Productions, 26 February 2001.

"Nekromanteia." _Doctor Who Audio_ , written by Austen Atkinson, directed by John Ainsworth, number 41, Big Finish Productions, February 2003.

 _Shark Bait_. By Bill Mevin, Polystyle Publications, Ltd, TV Comic, issue 728-731, 27 November-18 December 1965.

"Terminus." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steve Gallagher, directed by Mary Ridge, season 20, serial 4, BBC1, 15-23 February 1983.

Cole, Stephen. _The Monsters Inside_. BBC Books, book 2, 19 May 2005.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

The walls of the TARDIS groaned and clattered loudly with objection as the time machine barrelled towards its intended destination. The cloister bells sounded from high above warning the ship's passengers of the immediate danger they were heading into. It's repetitive melody pierced through the air to accompany the chorus of impending doom all around them. The console sparked and ignited, the engines sputtered as if caught between forward and reverse at the same time. The emergency lighting had activated bathing everything in the vicinity with its vibrant red hue. Inside the heart of the ship, the Doctor and his companion held on tightly as the living machine tore its way through space.

"What's wrong with the TARDIS?!" Clara shouted, gripping the edge of the console as if her life depended on it.

"She's figured out what I'm planning and she doesn't like it!" he answered, gritting his teeth as he struggled to pull down on the lever in front of him. "She's fighting me!"

"Why? Does she know something I don't?!"

"Let's just say I might've been to this system before. As I recall, it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. There may still be some animosity towards this section of space stored somewhere within her internal circuitry."

"Animosity?! She's trying to __kill__ us!" she exclaimed urgently, barely managing to duck her head in time as sparks flew out from beside her. "Remind me again why we're doing this?!"

"Everything we've accomplished so far has brought us closer to the source of our infinite timeline. This is the darkest hour before the coming dawn, we're storming the gates of the castle. Each move we make from here must be strategically calculated if we hope to release ourselves from the eternal loop Missy has entrapped us in," he explained, hurrying to type in a series of commands on the console in an attempt to manually override the ship's hold on the controls. "We'd be altering not only our future but the fate of anyone who had ever been affected by Quynn and her army. In theory, if we are successful, we could be saving them all."

"And if we fail?" she wondered, knowing nothing was ever as simple as he made it out to be.

"We won't," he assured her, activating the interface venting system to help control the small fires now escaping from beneath the panels.

"Humour me," she eyed him, taking notice of his avoiding gaze.

"Well," he started, scratching his brow as if searching for the least abrasive words to reply, "hypothetically, there's a small chance we could accidentally change the course of history thereby causing a chain reaction which could potentially result in the collapse of time and the entire universe as we know it."

"Oh, is that all?!" she replied facetiously, growing more agitated the longer she endured the instability of their current situation. "Why is it always the __entire__ universe with you?! For once it would be nice to travel without having to worry whether or not the universe would still be around when we got back! Is that so much to ask?!"

"I said hypothetically!" he countered. "We're talking about mass reversal here. Your temporary death on Messaline proved time can be rewritten, to what extent leaves a lot to be considered. On the one hand, we could find ourselves returned to the moment just before any of this ever started. It would be as if none of it ever happened. And on the other, we could unintentionally reset the loop sending us back to the beginning to live it all over again. There's no way to know for certain what our future will be us unless we try. Although, this would all be a whole lot easier if she'd just let me take control!" he yelled up towards the rings above them, slamming his fist upon the keys hoping to release the ship's hold on the lever.

His words resonated into her thoughts as quickly as he had spoken them, suddenly realizing she hadn't quite grasped the real cost of what they exhausted her entire pregnancy hoping to accomplish. She spent so long yearning to be released from the eternal prison keeping her bound to this altered reality she hadn't thought about what the price of her freedom would mean. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew deep down he was right. The closer they came to breaking free of their entrapment the closer they were to erasing everything that happened between them since the moment he picked up the phone. And yet, their failure would mean spending the rest of eternity running from their predetermined destiny. Up until this very moment, she hadn't fully considered which future their current path was heading towards nor decided which of them she truly desired more. Either way, the TARDIS seemed to think whatever their fate may be, it wasn't worth risking all of time and space for it. "Here's a thought, maybe you could try listening to her for a change!" she argued, flashing him a heated glance as they continued to be knocked about.

"Oh come now, where's your sense of adventure?! You used to live for this sort of thing!" he grinned, reminding himself of the excitement that came with working under pressure as the TARDIS exploded all around him.

"My 'sense of adventure?!'" she questioned him fiercely. "Hmm, that's strange. I didn't realize I came to be this uncomfortably pregnant by __wishing really hard__!" she scowled.  
Before the old man could think of a clever reply, the ship suddenly shook violently as if it were crashing through solid matter. The force of it knocked Clara off balance, taking her by surprise. Her arms flew out to try and catch herself as she was thrown towards the outer ring of consoles. As she realized what was happening, her back collided harshly against the panel causing a sharp pain in her side and lower abdomen. She cried out from the shock of it, instinctively folding herself into a standing fetal position as the pain began to intensify.

"Clara!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side as quickly as he could. Reaching her, he carefully wrapped his arm around her waist and held her tightly as he struggled to help her back to the centre console. She winced in his grasp, desperately clinging to his jacket as the ship continued to fight for control. He felt his distress rising from within him at her visible discomfort, unable to help the disheartening realization that by trying to protect her from the face of danger he had unintentionally put her right in the middle of it. Though she remained vigorously high spirited in even the worst of situations, it was easy for him to forget how fragile and delicate her condition forced her to become. Leaning down, he brushed the hair from her face and cupped her head in his hands to assess her altered condition through her frightened eyes. "Are you harmed?!" he asked urgently, concerned by the significant blow she had taken to her body.

"I'm alright," she lied as a fierce contraction suddenly tore through her abdomen. She gripped the edge of the console and closed her eyes attempting to sooth the intensifying pain with her heavy controlled breathing. The agony of it was significantly greater than she anticipated. It took every bit of remaining strength to appear unscathed so as not to attract his concern. "How close are we?" she managed to inquire between breaths, ignoring the old man's worried expression as he observed the way she was clutching her middle.

He frowned at her unconvincing attempt at misdirection, sensing only on the outside was she fighting to maintain the illusion that nothing was wrong. But on the inside, she was screaming. He reluctantly released his grasp on her to pull the view-screen down towards them. "We should be nearing the system's auto-beacons any moment now," he answered, hoping his calculations had been correct. "Once we are within range, they'll transmit a signal back to the planet's surface alerting whoever is down there of our presence outside their boundaries. Just like knocking on a door, if that door happened to be billions of miles wide. And also in space."

"Good plan," she noted dryly, feeling her brow dampen with sweat the more she tried to hide her pain from him. "So what, they're just going to lower all their defences and let us in for tea, are they?"

"Unlikely," he replied, trying to mask his growing concern for her well-being behind his determination to see the mission through. "Besides, in the amount of time it would take for the signal to reach the planet's surface, we'd be long gone before their ships even left the atmosphere."

Clara opened her mouth to respond but fell short of words as the TARDIS suddenly ceased its incessant rocking to become exceptionally still. The emergency lighting switched off to brighten the room back to its original setting. The cloister bells and interface alarm all deactivated leaving the passengers in silent anticipation of what was to come. The pair looked to each other with equal curiosity as everything around them returned to neutral. "Have we made it?" she asked, looking to him for any amount of reassurance that the hardest part was finally over.

The Doctor raised his brow and readdressed the view-screen to discover all systems had indeed been restored to normal. His curiosity getting the better of him, he quickly headed for the door, hesitating for only a moment before swinging it open to peer outside. Just beyond the ship's entrance, a blinking light could be seen emitting from a large octahedral shaped prism engulfed in utter darkness. Being more than two light-years outside the system, they found themselves completely alone within the vacuum of space far from any sign of nearby orbiting planets or stars. Retrieving the sonic from his breast pocket, he aimed it at the blinking structure and activated it as Clara watched from a distance.

"What are you doing?" she called to him, taking the moment of calm to recover from her subsiding pain.

"Saying hello," he replied, concentrating his thoughts towards the spacial obstruction. After a moment, he deactivated the device then shut the door and headed back to the console to begin typing a message into the interface.

"So what now?" she asked, cautiously manoeuvring herself to stand beside him. "I take it you don't plan to just sit around here waiting for them to come to us?"

"Oh, that'd be exciting, wouldn't it?" he began sarcastically. "One minute we're telling stories and having a good laugh, and the next we've an entire fleet at our doorstep intending to kill us. No, I don't think so." He pressed down on the send button then moved around to the other side of the console. "I've tapped into the beacon's broadcast signature. I'm using its signal to transmit the exact coordinates of an uninhabited planet just beyond this system. We'll be safe there. It's too far for their short-ranged vessels to make the journey and won't be worth the fuel or manpower to send anything larger to come after us. But one will come," he answered, inputting their next destination into the interface.

"How do you know?" she inquired, wondering how much actual thought had been put into this plan of his.

The Doctor positioned his hand securely over the lever, taking the moment to glance down at his small companion with unfaltering confidence. "Trust me. If she's anything like me, she'll come," he assured her, pulling down on the handle. The time rotor immediately began to move its internal mechanisms as the TARDIS dematerialized from its current position in space.

* * *

 _Justica: Alpha_

The Mistress sat comfortably at her rather generously sized well-crafted wooden desk. Her crossed legs rested neatly upon its surface as she leaned back into her chair and twirled a small dagger to her fingertip. A subtle knock was suddenly heard at her door. "Entrez, mon cher," she called out towards the sound in a perfectly tongued French accent. The door opened and in walked the familiar form of the Commander followed by two of her best soldiers. The three entered and made their way across the room towards her. "Commander Quynn, so delightful to see you again," she addressed the cloaked visitor from the chair as a menacing smile formed across her face.

"Hello, mother," Quynn replied, keeping any hint of intimidation she carried while within her mother's presence securely hidden behind her shaded mask. "You wanted to speak with me?" she moved straight to the point. The less time she had to spend in the company of the woman who raised her the sooner she could leave. Though the love and respect she held for her mother were unfaltering, there was no one else in the universe she feared to disappoint more than her.

"Yes, thank you for arriving on such short notice. Although, I'm afraid I must insist you leave your __dogs__ outside. You understand of course," she requested, glancing towards her daughter's unwelcome entourage.

Quynn reluctantly turned her head to the side and nodded towards the soldiers behind her. Bowing theirs in return, they retreated from their position and exited the room. She found herself now alone in the presence of her mother, wondering how many years had faded by since the last time she lived and breathed within these walls. The forgotten memories of her past began to bleed back into her thoughts, though not all of them were entirely pleasant. The only life she had ever known was that of her training; the constant desire to fully understand all she was capable of so that one day the universe would finally be hers for the taking. Yet, the older she became the less she truly understood about herself. Though tempted, she never questioned the capabilities of the woman responsible for shaping her into the person she had become. She recalled being just a child the first time she witnessed those who would dare to stand in her mother's way perish by a vengeance so great and without remorse that it surpassed anything Quynn ever hoped to achieve. When it came to her enemies finding themselves within the crosshairs of her mother's wrath, only one person in the known universe had ever lived to tell the tale.

"There now, that's better. Just us girls," Missy spoke, kicking her legs off the desk. She leaned her elbows on its surface and rested her chin upon the dagger bridged between her hands. "Shall we head for a night out on the town? Make terrible decisions we'll regret in the morning? Ring up an old fling?" she toyed facetiously.

"Mother, please," Quynn sighed. "Why is it you have called me here?"

"Must there always be a reason? Can't it be that I wanted to spend some quality time with my own daughter?" Slipping the blade beneath her coat, she stood from the desk and absent-mindedly ran her fingers along the various objects lining its surface as she came around it. "How long has it been?"

"Our time apart has always come with its uncertainties. Although, I do seem to remember requesting your presence on the eve of my victory over Varos. I can only assume your invitation must have been lost during transmission?" she insinuated coldly, remaining unsurprised by her mother's long history of lacking any interest in her accomplishments.

"Darling, you know mummy's very busy. I can't be everywhere. I'm sure it was a truly lovely slaughtering. But while we're being perfectly honest, I'd hardly consider invading a planet inhabited by Earth's most batty and vile residents a victory. Varos is nothing more than a cupboard full of humanity's dirty laundry. What were you expecting, a pat on the back?"

"I've only ever desired your approval, mother. Nothing more," she answered, hiding the disappointed undertones of her words beneath the disguise of her voice. "What I do I have always done for you. To show you what your guidance and training has made of me. To make you proud of what I have become in your shadow."

Missy approached her apprentice and enacted a nurturing display of what she could only assume resembled affection as she placed her hands upon her finest warrior's shoulders. "Quynn, dearest, daughter of mine, you are still young. Compared to the things I have accomplished in my long life, you are practically still in your infancy. Do you think I've made it this far by being carried on the backside of praises? If there is one thing I've learned in my many lives it is that we make our own way in this pathetic universe." She began to circle around her soldier with pride. It was not so long ago the frightened child she brought up as her own once stood before her. And now, she was everything that could be expected of a progeny worthy enough of her recognition. "Everything you are I made you, everything you have I gave you. I raised you, I protected you. If it weren't for me, you would never have lived long enough to see the day your enemies cowered before you." She paused suddenly as an unfamiliar aroma she had not detected before caught her attention. Her brow raised with newfound interest as she looked upon her own reflection within the mask which concealed her daughter's dark secrets. A smile passed over her face as her thoughts began to spin around in her mind. She casually headed back for the desk and pretended not to have noticed the unmistakable change within her daughter. "What more could you possibly want from me?"

"Nothing, mother. I owe my life to you. I am forever grateful for the sacrifices you endured to keep me safe from our enemies. As long as my hearts still beat within me, I will always be indebted to you," she professed, pressing her hand to her chest and bowing respectfully.

"Such a loyal and loving daughter I have," Missy replied with mild condescension, continuing to face away from her as she revelled in her current suspicions. Turning her head, she glanced half-heartedly over her shoulder towards her daughter's bent form. "One day it will be __your__ name they whisper throughout the stars."

"Yes, mother."

"But until then," she turned back around to face the young woman, suggestively bracing herself against the desk, "do tell me how your mission in London fared. Were you successful? Will he join you?"

Quynn felt herself hesitating at her next choice of words. She knew her mother would not so easily be fooled by anything other than the truth. "Mother, I-"

"Oh do take that ridiculous thing off," she interrupted. "Never trust anyone who hides behind a false face. I should know." She grinned at Quynn's apparent reluctance, unable to resist the temptation to exploit her daughter's discomforted demeanour. "Come now, don't be shy. We have nothing to hide from one another." She watched with anticipation as Quynn lowered her hood and proceeded to unlatch the clasps fastened around her head. Pausing for only a moment, she finally removed the mask and attached it securely to her hip. Her hair burned brighter than fire as it fell long past her shoulders.

The Time Lady examined the unfamiliar face before her, insulted by the thought that her daughter tried to conceal the use of a regeneration from her. "My my, aren't you __shiny__ ," she stated whimsically, observing the birth of Quynn's first shameful expression in her new body as it fell to the floor. "I take it he declined our generous offer. How predictable. I can't say I'm not a teensy bit disappointed you were unable to convince him, I practically gift wrapped them for you. But no matter, I have __other__ means of persuasion in mind."

Missy continued to study the young woman whose glance remained averted away as if trying to decipher the sense of failure in her daughter's eyes. How alone and frightened she must have felt as every cell in her body began to burn and reorder themselves. She couldn't help but think of the pain she experienced during all nineteen of her own previous regenerations. No matter how many times a Time Lord changed faces within their own cycle, they were never truly able to forget their first. It was an often celebrated occurrence among Gallifreyans, such as how one's coming of age would be considered to many other species. Though it had been well over a thousand years since the eve of her first death, she would never be able to forget the spectacular sight of fireworks being set off on the rooftop of London's most notoriously private Scoundrel's Club to mark the occasion. A tradition she repeated with each incarnation as she recovered from the inevitability of regeneration sickness. Of course, that was before she obliterated every single one of its members due to their prejudice against her newest more feminine form.

"So, what was it like? How did he do it?" Missy continued with the slightest hint of jealousy in her voice. "Stabbing? No, that's not his brand of tea. Poison? __Far__ too sexy. Oh, I have it. Asphyxiation!" She perked at the thought with a bit of excitement. She observed as Quynn's head lowered even further in humiliation, unable to speak nor look her in the eyes. Whatever had been done to her was even more serious than Missy imagined. "No? Hmm." The gears in her mind spun wildly as she thought about what could have possibly been worse than dying at the hands of the Doctor. And then she understood. She quickly found herself bursting with laughter, no longer able to contain herself as she struggled to speak over the humour of her own thoughts. "My my my, the great Commander Quynn. Enslaver of worlds, heir presumptive to pure evil, whose shadow makes even the strongest of warriors tremble. Defeated by a poodle." The room became filled with her continued hysterical laughter as it resonated off the walls around them.

Quynn cleared her throat and attempted to speak over her mother's infuriating laugh. "I'll admit, I underestimated her weakness as a human female even under the threat of her own life. I was so certain the Doctor's care for her safety would have been leverage enough to persuade him to accompany me. I will not make the same mistakes the next time we are to encounter each other."

Missy took a moment to finally compose herself, wiping the single tear from her eye. "Oh, Quynn. You still have so much to learn. When it comes to his precious pets, the Doctor will always fold. However, the Doctor is very clever. He will try to distract and disarm you with his words. If you're winning and he's in the room, you're sure to be missing something."

"What is it you really want with him?" she asked, agitated by her mother's patronizing demeanour. "Every day of my life has been spent training and preparing me for the moment we were to finally meet face to face. And so I have. He is nothing but a fool, mother. We do not need him to succeed in our objectives. The pair of us could be unstoppable together."

Missy raised her brow at the girl's defiant words and slowly approached her. "If you honestly believe that, then you are an even bigger fool than he. Have you learned nothing from me all these years? Where there's fear in the hearts of those we wish to rule, the Doctor will always be there to stand in our way. So long as believes he has no other choice but to vow his undying loyalty to us, all we have ever sought to achieve will be guaranteed."

"What makes you so sure you can trust him not to betray us?"

"I never said anything about trusting him," Missy replied, grinning to herself. "Let's just say I've procured something of great value to him, a collateral of sorts. Something he would not so easily allow to be disposed of," she paused, looking her up and down. "If we are to have absolute control over our own destiny, we must first ensure our opening hand is strong right from the very start. Luckily for me, I always have an ace up my sleeve. You know what they say, 'what's the point of playing the game if you can't bend the rules a bit?'" She took her daughter's chin in her grasp and looked maleficently into her eyes. "So long as his focus remains on you, everything I am trying to accomplish will go undetected."

Quynn pulled away from her mother's claws, glaring at her intently. "Why is he so important to you, mother? We've had every opportunity to rid ourselves of him time and time again. All of our concerns would have vanished years ago if only you permitted it. The end of his very existence has been within our grasp, and yet you continually allow him to evade us. Why?"

Missy narrowed her eyes at the young girl. It was only natural to assume sooner or later her daughter would grow weary of being kept in the dark, only a matter of time before she would begin to challenge her mother's unrelinquishing commands. Having raised and moulded her into a perfect replica of herself, it should have come as no surprise that eventually she'd find resistance along the way. It was in her blood after all.

She found herself returning to her desk at Quynn's inquiries with significant irritation in her step. Reaching into her drawer, she pulled out a stack of envelopes and threw them down in front of her, their contents sprawled across every available surface space. She braced herself against the desk and allowed her claws to dig into the crafted wood. "Do you have any idea what these are?" she asked sharply. Her daughter's face reflected that of mild perplexity as she observed the papers strewn about. "They're instructions. From __me__. My only glimpse into all that has been and will be that even you cannot see. I've kept them with me all these years. Each one of these letters explicitly details the proper chain of events that must proceed one another without the slightest bit of falter. If we are to be successful, then we must be willing to do whatever it takes to ensure everything goes as planned. Even if it means allowing our enemies to live to fight another day. So, before you begin to question my intentions, you must first ask yourself one thing. What are these letters really trying to tell us?"

Quynn snickered beneath her breath and cupped her hands behind her, taking the moment to remind herself of how infuriating it was to be on the receiving end of her mother's manipulation. "Alright, mother," she started, attempting to appear unaffected by the change in conversation. "I'll play your little game. What is it they are telling us?"

Missy exhaled an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. It was moments such as these which reminded her of where her daughter's true lineage lay. "Must I spell __everything__ out for you? It's really quite simple, dear. They tell us that whether or not we are destined to come out victorious on the battlefield, there's one important detail that matters above all else - one crucial aspect of the future we know to be absolutely certain." She took up one of the letters in her grasp and held it out in front of her, "That I'm very much still __alive__." She paused momentarily, waiting for the enlightenment to finally reach Quynn's stilled expression. "So, until the day I decide to risk it all by erasing my entire timeline from all of existence, everything will proceed exactly as I've designed it to be. No matter the company we must keep along the way."

If there was one thing Quynn understood about the woman who stood before her, it was how exponentially clever she was. Always one step ahead of the game. A condition of experience due to a life long lived in which Quynn could only hope to attain. "As you wish, mother," she sighed, feeling herself being pulled deeper into the darkness that kept her so naive within the ambiguity of her mother's schemes.

Before she could say anything more, an alarm was suddenly heard broadcasting from over their heads. Quynn, surprised by the noise, turned and headed towards a table-top view-screen positioned at the end of the room. Reaching it, she calmly ran her hand along its surface and proceeded to convert the image to an interactive holographic projection directly in front of her. Gripping the air, she expanded the projection of the surrounding planets to a view of the outer ring of defences. A blinking red light from one of the system's auto-beacons caught her attention. Raising her brow, she engaged the highlighted area of space warning her of an incoming transmission from an unidentified source. A hint of dread came over her as an unfamiliar series of numbers and decimals quickly filled the air. There was only one person in the known universe stupid enough to breach their defences if only to gain her attention, and gain it he had.

"Is that room service?" Missy toyed, making her approach towards Quynn's side. "It's about time, I was starting to feel a bit peckish."

"It's __him__ ," she answered dispassionately, though impressed by the fact that the old man had managed to discover their exact location in all of time and space. Perhaps he wasn't as foolish as she thought him to be.

"Well well, how wonderfully __naughty__ ," she spoke flirtatiously, her wide grin making its return upon her face. "It would appear as though we'll be proceeding ahead of schedule. Pity, I was starting to become rather fond of this place."

The message's disruption between them caused Quynn's thoughts to encompass her. She found herself reliving the moments just prior to her own death. Her memories of the last time she had been in the presence of the Time Lord known as the Doctor and his human companion began to surface from their intended dormancy. _"_ _ _You're merely a pawn in all this, just a piece to be played__ _,"_ the Doctor's voice rung in her head indefensibly. _"_ _ _Your entire existence is a paradox__ _."_ She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind before they began to set themselves. There was no room for error caused by the sense of doubt now rising within her. Though she would never be able to trust him, there was something about the look in his eyes during their recent encounter with each other that seemed genuine and without malice. As their conversation continued to force its way into her mind, she began to wonder exactly how much he really knew about her. How much of it was true?

Missy eyed her daughter's distracted gaze, unable to recall having ever seen her in such a state before this very moment. "Is something the matter? You look positively dreadful," she noted, murdering the silence that had come between them. Her words did not seem to have any effect on stirring the girl from her apparent disconnection. Though tempted, there was no need to invade her daughter's private thoughts to sense the malfunction within her. She knew her all too well. "Oh, I see. And what has he told you that so greatly clouds your mind?"

Quynn felt herself trying to mask her emotions at her mother's question. The part of her that yearned for the truth was vastly outweighed by the sense of duty and loyalty she was bound to. And yet, a greater part of her could not help the pressing desire to question her own existence and the purpose she served in all of this. "He claimed to be my father," she began, turning to her mother to study her expression carefully, "that myself and the child his companion carries are one and the same. That I am part... human." She lowered her head as her own words suddenly hit her with an unwarranted wave of conflicted contemplation.

The Time Lady glared at the girl with an unreadability stilled expression. In her extensive experience with remaining one step ahead of all those she wished to gain an advantage of, she knew it was far better to never place her trust in anyone rather than risk becoming scathed by their treachery and lies. Although attuned to such betrayal, she should have expected it would only be a matter of time before she began to detect it from more unsuspecting places. A wide menacing smile peeled over her lips as she cawed with laughter at the unsurprising knowledge being offered to her on a platter of childish ignorance. "Well of course he did, dear. How better to get inside your mind than to have you question where your loyalties lie?" Her eyes narrowed sternly as her face quickly shed its faux expression. "Rule number one?"  
Quynn lifted her head with newfound confidence, shaking all cause of doubt from her mind's programming. "The Doctor always lies."

"Good girl," she replied, returning to her desk to take her seat behind it. "Well now, I think it's about time our little friends come to understand what you are truly capable of at the cost of their interference."

"What are your orders?" the Commander inquired, though somewhat hesitant of the answer.

"The child," Missy spoke, propping her legs upon the decorative workspace once again. "Bring it to me. Even if you have to tear it from its mother's belly," she instructed with a certain malice in her eyes.

"Yes, mother," Quynn obeyed, bowing respectfully before starting for the door.

"And Quynn," she called, observing as the girl halted at the sound of her name to glance over her shoulder in her direction. "Do not fail me."

* * *

Clara braced herself against the railing, her back turned towards the Doctor as she fought back her tears so he would not see. The pain of her last contraction lingered longer than she expected. Though the shock to her body appeared to be more damaging than she originally thought, she continued to deny him any reason to fret over her. The last thing he needed was to worry about her well-being when he should be concentrating on the mission and staying alive. Glancing down the length of her to where their child still thrived, she couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that their time was nearly up. She wasn't ready for it. No part of what was to come could be prevented nor prepared for. The level of uncertainty she felt towards their impending future was truly terrifying. Letting go of those fears was an impossible task, one she felt she would never be able to master no matter the challenges they often faced together. She closed her eyes and tried to come to terms with the part she must play for him, even if the risk involved one of them not making it out of this terrible situation with their life. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, attempting to be as brave as she knew how to be.

"I'm never sure about anything," he answered truthfully, his arms supporting him as he leaned back against the console to observe her from afar. He kept his distance from her after their most recent conversation detailing what was to happen next, allowing her the time she needed to process his intentions in her own way. The noticeable difference between the two of them was his ability to step outside his box without worrying whether or not he would ever return over her ability to mourn him while he was still very much alive. A genuine characteristic he no longer felt the need to hold against her as he had done many times in the past. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't allow the love she bore for him to cloud his judgement even more than it already had once he finally crossed the threshold to the outside. His mind must be absolutely clear if he was to succeed in the task ahead of him. They both understood the risks before setting off on this journey to save themselves, though the knowledge they gained throughout the course of it hadn't made it any easier to digest.

She took a deep breath and concentrated all of her energy on masking her pain and ignoring her accompanying fears to appear well in his presence. A task not so easily done as he knew her better than anyone. He had memorized the manual to own heart letter by letter, he knew every expression as if they were his own. The only way to avoid his concern laid within her ability to be very clever whenever the situation called for it. "How about we just don't?" She opened her eyes and spun around to meet his gaze, presenting a smile upon her face exactly the way she used to whenever they travelled together as her wonder and excitement purified the air all around them. She approached and placed her hands on either side of him, trapping him between her arms. "Why don't we just run away together and never look back?"

He peered down and smiled towards her brightly lit expression. "Oh, that'd be great, wouldn't it?" he teased fondly, running a gentle hand through her soft brown hair.

"Just the Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS," she replied, painting a picture of the perfect life they both so desperately wanted but knew deep down they could never really possess. At least not in this reality.

"The last two truly free people left in the universe," he noted, softly reminding them both of what was at stake if Quynn were to be left to her own devices in their absence.

"Three," she noted coyly.

He grinned sincerely and glanced towards the filled space between them, bringing his hands to run protective circles along the sides of her extended form as she pressed into him. "The last three," he corrected himself, leaning in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

Clara smiled at his gesture and rested her head against his chest, holding him close as her mind wandered aimlessly. The only thing calming her rising fears was the sound of his hearts beating their rhythmical melody inside of him. "Do you really think you can convince her?" she asked, knowing what little time she had left to do so.

He sighed and carefully wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin upon the top of her head as they held each other. "She was raised to view everything she encounters in this universe through filtered lenses. I cannot fault her for that. But where Missy has succeeded in turning our own daughter against us, we have the advantage. Quynn is equal parts you and I. She has something Missy does not; a sense of humanity. Though she doesn't even know it yet." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned her away so he could see her face in every detail as he gazed into her eyes. "It is your compassion and care that gives me hope, Clara. I need only to reach through to that part of you buried deep within her."

As hard as she tried to imitate his positive outlook towards Quynn's villainous mindset, she couldn't help but feel responsible for the path of vengeance their daughter so desperately sought. "And what if you're wrong? What if every part of me you believe to be in her was murdered the second I pulled that trigger? What if she kills you to take her revenge out on me for what I did?"

"I don't believe it will come to that. I know in my hearts there's still good in her. No matter the terrible things she has done in the past, she is still our daughter. I owe it to her to try. But, if the worst were to happen and I don't make it back, then run like hell," he instructed, bringing his hand to her cheek as if taking one last look at her. "Run like hell, Clara, because you'll always need to. Whether I'm there by your side or not." Taking a deep breath, he stepped to the side and slowly fell to his knees in front of her. He raised his hands to rest upon either side of his companion's middle and addressed their child personally. "As for you, little one," he began, speaking softly, "I have a very important job for you. If I don't return, I need you to take care of your mother for me. She's an intolerable control-freak tucked into a small bossy form, but she means well. Don't tell her I said that."

Clara frowned at his attempt to distract her with his humour. "Don't say your goodbyes. You're coming back. We __need__ you to come back."

A heavy sigh escaped him at her persistence, knowing full well she was asking him to make a promise he just couldn't keep. He had no idea what was waiting for him beyond those blue doors. All he did know was his duty of care to his companion and their child was well worth the risk to his life. He gently rested his head against her belly, feeling every movement from within her gain in strength as he lingered there. It was difficult for him to imagine a time when his ability to create something new hadn't included some form of weapon to eliminate those who would wish to do him harm. And yet, there within his grasp he held the very essence of life he unintentionally helped to conceive. Their lives were more important to him than any army he ever helped to defeat. "She's restless today," he lifted his head, taking notice of his sensitivity towards the new changes happening inside of Clara's body. The usual mix of maternal chemicals contained within every living cell inside of her had somehow shifted significantly.

"She knows something is about to happen. She can feel it, and so can I," she confessed, glancing down at his closeness.

"It'll be okay," he assured her, readdressing his attention to the life inside of her. "Don't be afraid. No matter what may happen to me out there, you will be protected. I will do whatever it takes to ensure no harm will ever come to either of you." His smile returned as he planted a soft kiss to Clara's middle then leaned away to playfully furrow his brows towards the space between his hands. "Now stop worrying your mother. The last thing I need is for her to find a reason to leave the TARDIS, __again__." He glanced up at the face of his companion, raising himself to a standing position once more. He cleared his throat and looked to her with a slightly sterner expression. "I suppose I don't have to remind you of your sworn oath to me?"

"I promise not to leave this ship no matter what happens out there," she recited from memory.

"Good girl." He gracefully brought her hands to his lips and kissed them each, taking notice of their unsteadiness. "You're trembling."

"I'm terrified," she confessed.

"Don't be," he whispered genuinely. Releasing his grasp on her, he hesitantly brought forth his outstretched fingers towards the sides of her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked, cautious of his actions.

"Leaving a part of myself with you," he answered, placing his fingers to each of her temples with care. He closed his eyes and concentrated his thoughts towards forming a link between them.

She allowed herself to open her mind to him, gasping at the sensation of his consciousness inside of her own pulling her deeper into their shared connection. Upon opening her mind's eyes, she suddenly found herself standing in a brightly lit valley of tall red grass stretching for miles in all directions. Hung low in the amber-coloured evening sky, a pair of moons occupied the horizon as if in audience to their presence in this world. In front of her stood the image of the Doctor, his hands neatly clasped one over the other as he gazed at her tenderly. _"_ _ _Where are we__ _?"_ she inquired, her voice echoing from all around them.

 _"_ _ _This is where I began__ _,"_ his whispered words claimed inside her mind, _"_ _ _a frozen moment in time, a fragmented memory of the last time I could remember being truly happy. Until I met you.__ _ _We are bound now, you and I. Whatever may happen out there in the real world, our connection to each other can never be broken. You'll be able to feel what I feel, you'll know I'm safe. As long as we share this bond, nothing can separate us__ _."_

She smiled, feeling warmed by his words as she approached until she was standing directly in front of him. She cautiously reached out and brought her hand to his face, experiencing every bit of how real he felt under her touch. _"A_ _ _nd what about you?__ _"_ she asked, gazing into his eyes. _"_ _ _Can you feel me, Doctor?__ _ _Can you see me when you close your eyes?__ _"_

 _"_ _ _Oh, Clara__ _,"_ he smiled, his emotions reflecting that of everlasting happiness, _"_ _ _I never stop seeing you.__ _"_ Placing his hand to her cheek, he ran his fingers through her hair and cupped her head in his loving grasp. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, taking in every detail of her taste as they embraced each other. The five hearts beating between them had been transformed by their strong connection to each other as if they were one and the same entity. She could feel his passion flowing inside of her as it mixed with her own, and he her pain. He winced at its sudden severity tearing through him, feeling wounded by the lie she had been keeping from him, yet chose to forgive her for her deception. He knew she had her own reasons for feeling the need to betray him. She was stronger than he could have ever imagined her to be.

A flash of light brought them both out of their mind-link. They opened their eyes to find themselves back on the TARDIS exactly where they last left it, his hands still resting upon her temples. Though their brief connection to each other had been severed, he could still feel her resounding afflictions within him. He quickly concluded their bond had been successful, though remained hopeful he was able to leave her with a less abrasive piece of himself inside of her in exchange for her pain. Releasing her, he lowered his arms to his sides and glanced towards the doors of the ship. Following his gaze, she looked to the exit and sighed defeatedly.

"Well then," he spoke, reminding himself of their situation, "I suppose it's time."

"Suppose so," she answered, forcing herself not to become emotional in his presence.

The Doctor nodded reluctantly and looked to her one last time, smiling at the unforgettable features of her face, then turned and headed for the doors. Reaching them, he hesitantly placed his hand upon the handle then turned around to face her apologetically. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for everything."

Clara willed a small smile to her face at his confession, playing her part as best as she could. "Don't be sorry. Make it up to me."

Returning her smile, he simply nodded his farewell and exited the TARDIS.

* * *

Works Cited

Cole, Stephen. _The Monsters Inside_. BBC Books, book 2, 19 May 2005.

"Vengeance on Varos." _Doctor Who_ , written by Philip Martin, directed by Ron Jones, season 22, serial 2, BBC1, 19-26 January 1985.

Martin, Philip. _Vengeance on Varos_. Target Books, W.H. Allen, book 106, 16 June 1988.

Rayner, Jacqueline. _The Last Dodo_. BBC Books, book 14, 19 April 2007.

Mortimore, Jim and Lane, Andy. _Lucifer Rising_. Virgin Books, book 14, 20 May 1993.

Tucker, Mike. _Diamond Dogs_. BBC Books, book 61, 20 April 2017.

Goss, James. _Dismemberment_. BBC Books, The Missy Chronicles, 22 February 2018.

Rayner, Jacqueline. _Original Sin_. BBC Books, The Missy Chronicles, 22 February 2018.

"Hell Bent." _Doctor Who_ , written by Steven Moffat, directed by Rachel Talalay, season 9, episode 12, BBC One, 5 December 2015.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

A warm summer breeze welcomed him as he stepped out onto the sandy beach and shut the door behind him. The rich aroma in the air filled his senses with the natural combination of sea salt and sweet nectar from the forest of blooming flowers just beyond the untouched soil. The sound of waves crashing upon the shoreline brought about a familiar sense of peace and serenity into his heavy hearts. Shielding his eyes from the light of the sun, he scanned the horizon until he came upon the presence of a familiar life form standing patiently at the shore's wake. As she stood with her back turned to him, her long black cloak flowed with the wind as if it were dancing to the rhythm of a melody only it could hear. Taking a deep breath, he urged himself forward and approached the visitor from behind. His boots left a trail of impressions in the sand from his beloved sanctuary towards his uncertainty. Finally reaching her, he took his place at her side and tucked his hands into his pockets as they looked out unto the brilliant sight ahead of them. The sun's reflection upon the water's surface glistened in a million different places as if the ocean itself were attempting to imitate its impressive light.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he declared as if in mid-conversation, taking the moment of temporary calm to breathe in the fresh air all around them as if it would be his last. "I used to come here whenever I had convinced myself that the vast well of internal hope had finally dried up. Back when nothing seemed to make sense anymore." He paused as the memories of his past began to filter into his thoughts. She remained quiet at his words, somewhat lost inside of her own turmoil, and continued to look ahead of them as if searching for answers within the seemingly endless horizon. "I used to think this place had a way of making you feel a hundred years younger. Sort of like regenerating without all the fuss. You could leave here feeling entirely brand new. Cleansed of a lifetime's worth of hatred and pain from your own reflection. Not this face though, never this face. It's the eyebrows, they're much too cross." In her continued silence, he absent-mindedly dug the tip of his boot into the damp sand and watched intently as the tiny air bubbles trapped underneath popped up to the surface.

"How did you find me?" she finally spoke from behind her shaded mask, unwilling to abandon her outward gaze to glance in his direction.

"Oh, I'm really clever," he casually replied, keeping their conversation to a certain level of "gentlemanly" discretion.

"Whatever you have planned, it won't work," she insisted through the disguise in her voice.

"If you really believe that, then why did you come?"

She hesitated for a moment as if carefully considering her answer, "Curiosity perhaps."

"Ah, yes. Of course." He glanced towards her, catching a glimpse of his own reflection upon the side of her face as he attempted to study what little she had to offer beyond her hidden expression. "Why the mask? Are you so ashamed of what you really are?"

She felt herself smirking at his question, reminding herself of his ability to shield his underlying intentions beneath his words. "We all wear masks, Doctor. Even you." She looked to him, finally acknowledging his presence beside her for the first time. "The Raven is not a face. It is but a concept defined and moulded over time. Faces change, as you know, but ideas are everlasting. Rid a world of one evil and another will soon rise in its place. It is an inevitability."

"Oh? And which are you? Evil or inevitable? There's a difference," he retorted, trying to break through her defences and reach out to her the only way he knew how. "You know what else is inevitable? Life. Like evil, life will always find a way to exist. You can't have one without the other, it doesn't work. It all comes down to how we as passengers in this universe are able to balance the two, no matter the path we have found ourselves on."

Quynn laughed quietly to herself, keeping her mother's words of wisdom fresh within her mind. "We make our own paths, Doctor. When it comes to the natural order of good versus evil, I was always taught that one is better equipped at prevailing over the other."

"Well then, perhaps you haven't found the right teacher yet," he insinuated. "Lesson number one - never mistake kindness for weakness."

"Wise words, for a murderer," she noted, glaring him down. "There's a reason your very name strikes fear in the hearts of those who would rise against you. Perhaps we aren't so different, you and I."

He sighed and hung his head at his daughter's accusations, unable to refute nor ignore the accuracy behind them. He hoped she would have seen more to him than what she had been led to believe, that he stood for something greater than the terrible things he had done in his past. But how could she? Beyond the hearts she bore that he gave her, apart from the blood they shared that flowed through their veins, they were nothing more than strangers. As far as she was concerned, she had no father. He had never been there for her. She had no reason to believe he wasn't everything Missy portrayed him to be. And yet, he still felt there was a chance he could open her eyes to the side of him she had never seen before. As long as there remained hope he could have a future with her in his life he would never give up trying. "It's true. I've shed more blood than you can even imagine. I've lived long enough to know that in the end, when all others have fallen, there will only ever be one person still standing on the empty battlefield. And I've spent most of my life making sure that person would be me." He lifted his head and attempted to explain the inner demons buried underneath a lifetime's worth of denial and self-hatred so she would understand his pain. "I never claimed to be a hero. I never asked for that. People like us, we go on too long. Our perspectives are too vast, too far away. When you get around to being as old as I am, you tend to lose track of what's really important. You reach a point where everything starts to look the same. Faces, planets, stars, ...wars. They all blend together. You begin to forget which side you're fighting on. You start to realize your version of good and evil is not absolute. It's vain and arrogant and sometimes even a little bit sentimental. But you still try. And maybe, just maybe, nothing you do will even matter in the end. The same mistakes will be made, wars will still be fought, hearts will still be broken."

"So why do it then? Why protect them?" she asked, unsure of what he was trying to accomplish with his confession.

"That's a rather good question, isn't it? The answer, of course, is that life is very fleeting when you're not immortal. For every billion of them you meet, there will be one who truly understands how beautiful and precious life is. They make every moment count. You may not understand this now, but one day, when there are no more worlds left to conquer, no more people left to fall, you'll find yourself all alone in this universe."

A moment of silence passed between them as they returned their attention towards the view ahead. Quynn took advantage of the absence of words to grasp what he was trying to say. His wisdom was far beyond her understanding of the universe, and yet, a part of her envied him. He was free to traverse the stars as he pleased, unburdened by the reins that would try to steer him from his own desires. He was answerable to no one but himself. She longed for the day she would no longer be forced to assume the role of errand "boy" by her mother's command, that she too would be free to make her own choices. Perhaps, buried somewhere underneath all the layers of her training and loathing of him, there was a part of her that desired to be saved. "Why have you brought me here?" she finally addressed that which had yet to be discovered.

"For the same reason that you came. Deep down, we both know there is something much larger than our indifference happening all around us than we have been led to believe." He paused as if waiting for some kind of validation or enlightenment to take place between them. In her returned silence, he sighed and looked out towards the horizon once more. He took a moment to clear his thoughts, shedding them of everything he knew himself to be. Every witty exchange, every defeated army, every enemy he ever brought to their knees by his cleverness alone. She was more to him than any of those he had come across. She deserved better. She deserved the truth. "I never wanted to be a father again," he started, trying to bring himself to a level of maturity she could understand. "I was so sure of it. I lost all of that a long time ago, along with everything else. I convinced myself I could never again face the responsibility. The hole they left, the pain that filled it. It was just too much for me." He turned to her and brought a smile to his face despite the woe he felt in his hearts by the memories of his past. "And then __you__ came into existence. The veil suddenly lifted. Before I even knew what was happening to me, the old me had died and a new me had been reborn. I had fallen in love with that feeling all over again. I've watched you grow, I protected you, I offered you my love without ever asking for anything in return. And yet, the more I stood by watching as you thrived within your mother the more I began to regret everything that had been and will be taken from me. The missed experiences, the lessons lost, the wounds I would never heal. I realized how badly I wanted you in my life. And I still do."

Quynn snickered quietly to herself from beneath her mask as if invalidating his returned accusations. "So clever, and yet so set in your own ways. I should commend you for your consistency, it only makes you that much easier to predict. Are you really so desperate for my acceptance?"

"Are you really so desperate to deny the possibility?" he countered.

She turned her head and narrowed her eyes to glare at the man before her, taking advantage of the glass separating him from her readable expression. "You are my sworn enemy. There's nothing you could say that would make me believe you."

"I don't need you to believe me. I only need you to ask yourself one thing. What if I'm right?"

Quynn felt herself becoming more agitated the longer she endured the unyielding nature of their conversation, yet retained her calm demeanour so as not to offer him a reason to view her as weak. "Say you are. What difference would it make?"

"All the difference in the universe, I'd imagine," he replied sincerely. He inhaled a deep breath and tried to find a way to relate to her on a more personal level. Even if it meant lowering his defences to succumb to a vulnerable state of mind in order for her to listen. "Quynn, I-" he started to say but fell short of words as he sensed something rather disturbing beginning to form inside of him. Something he could not have anticipated. Before he could say anything more, he was suddenly hit with an excruciating amount of pain as if he had just been shot in the stomach. He cried out in agony and folded himself in front of her, his eyes wide with fear. His hands searched for an entry wound yet found nothing to suggest he had become a target. He lifted his gaze towards his daughter, taking notice of her current unarmed status, and quickly concluded she was just as perplexed by his sudden malfunction as he. His mind burst into action over what could be happening to him. A part of him feared his interference in altering the course of their fate had made a turn for the worse. That he had unintentionally doomed himself by the disruption he caused. As the pain intensified, he found it difficult to think rational thoughts. He had been shot plenty of times before, but not like this. Whatever this was, it was significantly different than anything he ever experienced. And suddenly, he understood.

"Clara!" he gasped aloud in a whisper. He looked to his daughter with a new sense of desperation in his eyes then turned his attention to the TARDIS resting peacefully in the distance. Gathering himself to a standing position as best he could, he abandoned his position beside her and bolted in the direction of the blue doors. The journey back to his companion felt like an eternity as each step in the ship's direction pulled him closer to collapsing in the sand.

Finally reaching the doors, he burst his way back into the time machine. His eyes searched frantically for his companion from the doorway. The first sound he heard upon entering were her screams from the other side of the console. "Clara?!" he called urgently, beginning to panic over what had become of her in his brief absence. Making his way to the other side of the room, he saw her standing against the railing next to one of the outer control panels.

"Doctor!" she shouted, gripping the rail as tightly as she could.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he came to observe the dampness of the floor she stood upon. Her frightened expression was matched only by the look of shock in his eyes at the sight of her. His thoughts raced as he realized exactly what was happening. Their time was finally up whether they were ready for it or not. And right now, there was no one further from ready than he. He quickly rushed to her side and carefully wrapped her in a tender embrace. It took every last ounce of will power remaining to hold back his own pain so he could concentrate on being what he needed to be for her.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I didn't know," she admitted as fresh tears fell down her terrified face.

"Shhh, don't be sorry," he soothed her, running his hand through her hair in an attempt to comfort her. "I'm here now, you're going to be alright. Everything is going to be fine." Every part of her was shaking in his grasp as she desperately clung to his jacket. She suddenly cried out in agony as another harsh contraction tore through them both. He winced at its severity felt from within him, fearing the shortened time between her strengthening pains proved things were progressing much faster than he originally envisioned them. His mind worked quickly to plot out exactly what was going to happen next, taking the time to silently curse himself for not having properly prepared for this moment. He spent all of his spare time hoping to solve their way out of their paradoxal predicament before it had come to this point. Regaining his mind, he brought a trembling hand to press upon her belly in search of the position of their child. He could feel his companion's muscles tense under his palm as they instinctively urged the baby downward. He couldn't help but feel responsible for her unbearable suffering. He never meant to hurt her this way, if only he had known his love for her would lead to so much pain.

As he continued to press along the surface of her abdomen, his senses suddenly activated to the presence of another entering the threshold of his domain. He heard Clara gasp at the sight of their new guest now standing in the open doorway of the ship. Following his companion's gaze, his eyes met the silhouette of his daughter as she examined the bigger-on-the-inside space for the first time. He sighed and wondered to himself how their situation could possibly get any worse. "You remember Quynn."

"You brought her with you?!" Clara exclaimed through gritted teeth as her eyes shot back to him angrily.

"Well, I thought now was as good a time as any to learn life's valuable lesson about the birds and the bees. One less thing we have to worry about later," he quipped, hoping his humour might lessen the murderous look in her eyes.

"You do know she wants to kill me, right?"

"Yes, well, that's the trouble with family reunions, isn't it? Someone's bound to still be holding a grudge."

Quynn seized the moment of opportunity during the chaos to cross the threshold of the unusually designed console room, running her gloved hand along the railing as she came around it. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and yet, there was something about the way the ship pulsated with energy that felt comforting as if it were welcoming her. Her fingers traced lightly over the buttons on the panel beside her as she curiously proceeded further into the space provided. "Your ship is impressive," she addressed the old man from across the room. "I don't believe I've ever seen anything quite like it."

"Ah, well, I'd offer you a tour but I seem to have my hands full at the moment. But please, do make yourself at home," he replied facetiously. He watched intently as she stopped at the end of the handrail near the stairs and leaned against it, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but any chance we could continue this conversation in a real hospital, with __actual__ doctors?!" Clara asked urgently.

"About that," he began apologetically. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but it would appear as though we're well past that point."

"Seriously?!" she asked, hoping he was being funny. His face proved otherwise. "Great! That's just brilliant! So floor then?" she asked heatedly.

"I'm afraid so," he informed her, trying his hardest to be as understanding as possible to the emotions now encompassing her.

"Well, get on with it then!" she screamed between heavy breaths as another contraction ripped through her body.

He gritted his teeth and exhaled a painful groan at their shared affliction. Taking a moment to regain himself, he attempted to block the feeling from his mind, even if only a little, knowing he was of no use to her like this. A sudden rush of adrenaline shot through him at his success. "Right! Here we go!" he announced, springing into action. Releasing his grasp on her, he bolted towards the sofa on the upper platform and began to pull the cushions off of it. Turning his attention towards Quynn, he pointed in her direction. "You, mopey one!" he openly addressed her. "Are you just going to stand there like a newel post or are you going to help me?!"

"You can't be serious," she uttered in shock.

"Do you wish to be born or not?!" he replied angrily, tossing a cushion over the railing in her direction on the lower platform. Catching it, she looked to him with a stilled expression he could only assume resembled dumbfoundedness hiding beneath her mask. "Now help me!" he ordered her. Taking up the throw blanket in his grasp, he headed down the stairs towards his frightened companion and laid it neatly on the grated floor. He worked quickly to remove his jacket and tossed it upon the console then began to roll up his sleeves in preparation. Glancing back to his daughter, he realized she had yet to abandon her position as if she had been glued to the floor. "Why are you still standing there like an idiot?! C'mon c'mon c'mon!" he yelled, gesturing her forward. She hesitantly began to approach, unsure of how he managed to persuade her to do so. "And while you're at it, bring __that__ ," he pointed next to her at the medical bag he used not so long ago during his last equally distressing experience. She reluctantly did as she was told as he rushed to his companion and gently took her by the arm and waist. "You're alright, I've got you," he assured her, slowly leading her towards the space he prepared for her.

As they came closer, Clara suddenly froze to the floor as a wave of fear drowned all the confidence stored within her. "I can't do this," she admitted, her body trembling in his grasp.

"Yes, you can," he encouraged her, attempting to relieve her of her petrified state.

"I'm not ready."

"I don't think we have a choice."

"I'm afraid, Doctor."

"I'll be with you every step of the way."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she managed to tease through her pain. He frowned at her humour. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"We're about to find out," he replied, herding her forward.

Quynn placed the medical bag at one end of the blanket then approached the couple, setting the cushion down at the other. She looked to his companion and extended a gloved hand towards her for her to take. Clara froze in place at the gesture and fearfully clung to the Doctor for protection. Quynn slowly lowered her hand in understanding, realizing her appearance was far from comforting. Though that never stopped her in the past, she knew her real purpose here had yet to be fulfilled. Helping to put the terrified woman's mind at rest was the least she could do. Hesitating for only a moment, she brought her hands to her hood and removed it from its position then started for the clasps that bound the mask securely to her face. Releasing it, she clipped it to her hip and allowed them to gaze upon her newly exposed form.

"Oh, that's just unfair," the Doctor griped childishly, then glanced down at his frightened companion. "Why does __she__ get to be ginger?"

"Doctor, a little focus please!" Clara insisted, trying to find the courage to accept what was happening.

"Right," he replied, shaking the distraction from his mind. Taking hold of her, he urged her forward as Quynn removed her gloves and offered a hand once more. Clara reluctantly accepted, carefully placing her hand in her daughter's, and allowed the Doctor and Quynn to help her down to the floor to kneel beside her. Placing his hand behind her for support, he carefully leaned her back against the cushion and brushed the hair from her face. "Is this alright?" he asked, hoping he at least managed to aid in her level of comfort.

"Nothing about this is alright," she answered, reminding him of their abnormal situation.

He glanced towards his daughter, inhaling a deep breath in preparation of what was to come, then manoeuvred himself to the other end of his companion. He hesitantly reached beneath her dress and carefully removed her undergarment, tossing it aside. He rolled the bottom part of her dress up to her waist to better understand what he was dealing with and concentrated on keeping his expression from revealing to anyone that he had no idea what he was doing. When it came to his efforts in studying human anatomy, he was not aware that grazing over the female reproductive system would later come with its own set of consequences. "Maybe there's still time to locate River to assist with all this," he admitted his defeat prematurely.

"Your pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to your child and you want to invite your wife along, have I got that right?" she bit back angrily.

"Well, when you put it like that-"

"Doctor!" she screamed, trying to hold back her pain.

"Right, right! Sorry!"

"Can you do this or not?!"

He inhaled a deep breath and tried his hardest to locate his confidence. "I can do this. I'm __fairly__ certain I can do this. You wouldn't happen to be part octopus, would you?" he asked, teetering between whether or not he was teasing or just being hopeful.

"When this is all over, remind me to slap you!" she cried out as she was suddenly hit with a contraction more painful than anything she had experienced yet.

He winced severely and clutched his stomach, grunting heavily from the unexpected assault of their bond. "Fair enough," he agreed from under his breath, knowing he'd probably deserve it. "Just remember to breathe, that's the important thing."

"Not helping!" she screamed irritably.

"I was talking to myself!" he responded, forcing his recovery.

She groaned and gritted her teeth as her body instinctively urged her to begin pushing. She shut her eyes and screamed again as she felt herself opening. Her frightened tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She clenched her fists and tried to maintain her breathing as the pain intensified. She was suddenly taken by surprise when a warm hand was felt upon her own. She opened her eyes and glanced down, taking notice of Quynn's unexpected gesture, then looked to her daughter's sympathetic expression. Clara willed a weak smile to her face in appreciation and hesitantly unclenched her hand to close it around her daughter's. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for shooting you."

Quynn, surprised by Clara's confession, glanced towards the Doctor's raised brow. His eyes met hers and softened as if to beg her forgiveness on his companion's behalf. She wasn't exactly sure of the emotions going on inside of her at that moment. She couldn't help but wonder if faced with a similar situation, would she have done the same? She knew all too well how deeply the old man loved the woman who travelled with him wherever he went. The way he looked at her was unlike anything she had seen or felt before. He was truly prepared to do anything for her. "I... understand," she replied, conflicted by the thoughts now invading her mind.

Clara groaned again as another wave of pain shattered the moment between them. "What's going on down there?!" she shouted urgently, concerned by the lack of usual commentary from him.

"I'm not sure. I seem to have misplaced the manual," he replied, distracting himself from his own pain by staring into the void of her as if he were attempting to solve an unsolvable puzzle.

 _ _Ah, there he is__ , she thought, rolling her eyes with great irritation. "Ugh! Can you see her?!" she yelled back, now regretting her previous question.

"Yes, I think so," he replied unconvincingly. "Just out of curiosity, was she only supposed to have one head?"

"Yes, you idiot!" she screamed, trying to resist the urge to murder him.

"Good, I haven't miscalculated then." Removing himself from her delicate area, he came around to her side and gently placed a hand on her abdomen, rubbing it affectionately. "You're doing well, Clara. Everything is going as it should be. I can see her. But now I need you to push for me."

"I can't!" she cried, exhausted both in mind and body.

"Yes, you can."

"It hurts, Doctor!"

"I know. I know it does, Clara. Quite literally, actually." He removed his hand from her middle to place it at his own, wincing as he rubbed the part of him still able to feel her pain. "Probably not the best time to bring it up, but I'm starting to have second thoughts about our bond," he confessed, observing as she turned her head to glare at him with a rage-filled expression. "Never mind, it's not important," he quickly changed the subject. "The point is, you've been through so much already. You've been shot, kidnapped, torn apart, you've died and come back to life. Worst of all, you've had to put up with me through all of it. And when has that ever stopped you?"

She shook her head as her tears continued to fall down her face, "I can't, not this. I'm not strong enough."

He carefully wiped her tears away and gazed sympathetically into her eyes. "Clara, listen to me. You can do this. I know you can. You're my impossible girl, there's nothing you can't do. The Clara I know you to be would never have allowed herself to become defeated by this. You're stronger than anyone in this room, and right now I need you to prove it." He leaned down and softly kissed her forehead, then returned his gaze to hers. "Now come on, my brave girl. Push for me."

She stared into the eyes that begged her to trust him as the memories of everything they had ever done together came rushing back into her thoughts all at once. They were companions willing to push each other to extremes, and now was the time for her to show him what that had made of her. She smiled as best as she could then took a deep breath and nodded with all the confidence she could gather from within her. "Alright, daft old man. Let's do a thing."

"You and me together. Just as we always have," he added, smiling in her direction. Taking her hand in his, he tenderly kissed its surface and returned to the place where he was needed the most. Looking to her, he nodded to let her know it was time for her to show him what she could really do.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on what she needed to accomplish. When she was ready, she gripped Quynn's hand, took a deep breath, and pushed with everything she had left. She cried out in agonizing pain as their baby inched further away from the place she had known for so long.

"That's it! Push, Clara!" he called out to her. Clara collapsed back to the cushion in exhaustion, desperately trying to find the strength to continue on. "Come on, Clara. You can do this, you're nearly there!" he encouraged her. She inhaled another deep breath then lifted her head and began to push again as her screams resonated off the walls around them. "Good girl! That's it!" he exclaimed.

She gasped for breath as her head hit the cushion once more. Every part of her felt drained of energy. The will to carry on had nearly been extinguished, her mind diluted into believing she had nothing left to give. As her tears streamed down her face, she wanted so badly to give up, that she finally found a task too great a challenge for her. Turning her head, her eyes met Quynn's. As frightened as she was of everything her daughter ever stood for, for the first time it was as if she were looking upon her with an entirely new set of eyes. She suddenly realized the face that gazed back at hers had been shed of its identity just for her, just for this one moment. One small act of kindness. And for that, she understood what it was the Doctor saw buried deep within her. She could see his love, though very faint, trying desperately to break through. Perhaps he had been right all along. Perhaps something more than just her appearance had changed upon her regeneration. Whatever that was, it was enough for Clara to feel the fear within her beginning to fade. The most important thing she could do now was continue on. If not for herself or for the Doctor, then for her daughter.

"Come on, Clara. Don't give up!" he pleaded.

She closed her eyes and willed every bit of herself still fighting to win, then took a deep breath and began to push as if she had never done so before. Her screams filled the air as her body tore, but she refused to give in to the pain. Failing herself was easy, she was only human after all. But failing the Doctor, that would never leave her.

"That's it! Just a little bit more!" he called to her.

Clara breathed heavily as she attempted to regain herself, then looked to him and pushed as hard as she could giving it everything she had. She felt him reach in for the baby and carefully help her the rest of the way out. She gasped at the sensation of her child being pulled from her body, feeling every bit of her familiar warmth leave with her.

"I have her!" he exclaimed. "You've done it, Clara!"

Clara collapsed to the cushion and cried tears of elation, knowing her efforts towards bringing life into this world were finally over. A moment later, the cries of their newly born baby girl filled her ears.

Quynn, now free from Clara's grasp, stood and came around her. She worked to unfasten the cloak from her shoulders and placed the cloth delicately on the floor next to the Time Lord. He nodded his gratitude and carefully placed the newborn upon the warm material. He then reached into the medical bag and pulled out the surgeon's kit. Unrolling it, he retrieved a pair of clamps and scissors from inside. Quynn removed herself from the couple and allowed them a moment of privacy as he worked to carefully separate the child from her chord and close it off. Once finished, he gently wrapped the tiny infant in the cloak and lifted her into his arms as she continued to cry.

"Is she okay?" Clara asked, worried by the sound of her daughter's distress.

"She's perfect," he replied with an over-joyous grin and brought their child around for her mother to see.

Clara gasped at the sight of the small girl, taking in every bit of her for the first time as fresh tears formed in her eyes. A small tuft of brown hair stuck out from beneath the cloth and not a furrowed brow to be seen. She reached out and gently brushed her finger over her baby's soft hand, then looked to the father of her child. "She's beautiful, Doctor."

"Just like her mother," he noted with a smile, capturing the heart-warming moment between the two most important women in his life. "Look, Clara," he whispered in awe, carefully holding the tiny infant up towards his brightly lit face, "I'm a father again."

"It suits you," she replied, smiling up at his beaming expression.

"Can we have another?" he asked excitedly.

"You think it can wait five minutes, she's just been born," she laughed, holding out her hands as he placed the baby with care into her mother's arms. As their child began to settle, Clara couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love she bore in her heart for her. "I can't believe we actually did it."

He brought his hand to her forehead and lightly stroked her brow, "You were extraordinary."

"Well one of us had to be," she grinned up at him. "Whose brilliant idea was it to have __you__ deliver a baby?"

"Yes, well, it would seem we're a bit short-staffed around here in the baby delivering department," he noted, returning the smile.

"Well alright. But next time, it's your go," she teased.

"Fair enough," he replied playfully. He leaned in towards his companion and lovingly kissed her brow, then pulled away to gaze into her eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Clara," he whispered, brushing his fingers across her cheek. He couldn't express in words the emotions rushing through him as he warm-heartedly looked to her. "Oh, Clara. My Clara. You are everything to me," he professed softly. She smiled up at him as he tenderly looked upon his family together at last. He would never be able to forget this moment for as long as he lived.

"Doctor," Quynn spoke solemnly from the other side of the room, "it's time."

The old man felt his smile slowly fade away as his entire world was suddenly dragged back to reality. His eyes lowered from his companion's face as he woefully hung his head and nodded in understanding.

"No. Please, Doctor. Don't," Clara warned, feeling her fear taking its place within her once more.

"I have to," he confessed, feeling every bit of his hearts tearing apart. No matter how hard he tried to prepare himself for this moment, there was no avoiding how painful it would actually be when the time finally arrived. The emotions flowing through him could not have been narrowed down to one alone as they hit him all at once. His hatred, his rage, and his vengeance were all present within him, taking their place upon the forefront of his mind and soul. But so was his love. His fear of losing Clara was stronger than any other emotion combined. In order for him to save her from the duty Quynn was bound by, he would be forced to hurt his beloved companion. Finding his courage, he reached out and placed his hands on either side of his child.

"No, don't you dare," she threatened, her eyes were wide and fierce. "Please, don't do this. Don't you take her away from me."

"I have no choice," he told her, carefully prying the infant from her grasp. The baby began to cry at the disturbance.

"No, wait!" she begged him as he stood with the infant in his arms. "Please! Just a little longer!" she cried out as he moved farther away from her. "Give her back to me! Don't send her away!" She rolled to her side as best she could and reached out towards him, wincing severely at the pain still coursing through her body. "Doctor!" she tried to stop him.

"It'll be okay. I'll find a way to get her back, I promise," he tried to comfort her, holding back his tears. There was no way to know for certain if he would even be able to come through on that promise. All he did know was that it was time for him to be strong enough for both of them.

"Doctor, please! Don't do this to me!" she screamed, hoping her attempt to bring him back to her would not be in vain. When he did not turn around, she realized how completely powerless she had become. Her tears of devastation turned to streaks of rage as her heart became filled with spite and fury towards him. "You're a monster!" she shouted without even realizing it, then collapsed defeatedly to the floor as her tears fell to the grated metal. The act of his betrayal began to melt every bit of forgiveness she had granted him despite everything he put her through. There would be no coming back from this now. "I hate you," she whispered under her sobs.

Her harsh words halted him in place as the wound of her confession shattered his hearts into a million pieces. If they had been made of glass, they surely would have hit the floor and fallen into oblivion. He glanced mournfully at the small baby in his grasp, desperately trying not to be consumed by his own devastation. "So do I," he admitted as his self-loathing regained its hold over his emotions. Lifting his gaze, he continued his approach towards Quynn. Each step in her direction felt as if he were treading through a bog thick with his own despair. Finally reaching her, he took one last look at his child as if there was a small sliver of hope that somehow this wouldn't be goodbye. At least not for long. He sighed with a painfully heavy heart then carefully placed his daughter into her own open arms as Clara continued to sob behind him.

Quynn stared down at the small creature in her grasp, knowing how pleased her mother would surely be at her success. The child calmed herself in the stranger's arms and gazed up at her in amazement through her perfect blue-grey eyes. As Quynn glanced down at the tiny being, she couldn't help but wonder how something so small could be so important to the woman whose love she fought so hard for.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" the Doctor spoke softly, observing Quynn's curious expression intently as she studied the small girl. "So much wonder and love in her eyes. She has no concept of vengeance or hatred, no idea what will be waiting for her out there in the universe or what her fate will be. Her story has yet to be written. There's still a chance for her to grow up to be anything she wants to be."

As the Doctor's words resonated through her thoughts, Quynn felt a level of uncertainty she had never experienced before. Right there in that moment, she realized the child's fate was now entirely in her hands. She watched countless children burn by her own destructive nature without even a second thought. So why was this one any different? What was so important about this child to cause the malfunction taking its place within her? Whatever the reason for her mother's interest in the Doctor's child, she suddenly found herself torn between obeying a direct order or saving this one small girl from a possible future identical to her own. As her thoughts continued to consume her, she felt a familiar electricity within her fingertips from someone like herself calling out to her. Bringing her hand towards the baby's, she allowed the being's tiny outstretched fingers to wrap around one of her own. A sudden flash of light engulfed her as the child's fragmented memories were downloaded into her subconscious.

 _ _She opened her mind's eye to find herself standing alone in a field of green grass. The sun shone down upon her from the vibrant blue sky as birds chirped noisily from the surrounding forest. The wind around her carried with it a symphony of whispered voices as if they were speaking to her all at once. She circled around her position as if searching for their source. The indecipherable voices became louder and louder until she found herself covering her ears at their intensity. And then silence. Lowering her hands back down to her sides, she saw something in the distance that had not been there before. A mother and child. She cautiously approached the recognizable form of the woman dressed in white kneeling before the small brown-haired girl. As she drew closer towards them, the child unexpectedly turned her head to acknowledge the new visitor and smiled in her direction. Quynn halted at their eyes connection to each other, unable to tear herself away nor explain the sinking feeling in her stomach that she had somehow seen this girl before. Suddenly a familiar voice she knew very well forced its way into her mind. "She's our daughter, Clara," the Doctor's words whispered through her thoughts just as she remembered them. The vision both disturbed and frightened her so effortlessly it forced the link between them to break.__

The sound of the infant's cries brought her back to her current reality. Glancing down at the small baby, she gently pulled her hand from hers and turned her attention towards the Doctor's raised brow. The vision of what she had seen was still strong within her mind. Though she did not fully understand its meaning, she had not anticipated the effect it would have on her. It felt so real and yet so familiar all at the same time. She lowered her eyes from his to return them to the crying child within her grasp. "She's hungry," she told him, fighting back her own emotions so that he would not see. And then, without any careful reconsideration, she placed the child back into the Doctor's arms as he continued to stare at her in a prolonged state of confusion. Turning from him, she quickly headed for the door before her regrets caused her to change her mind.

"Quynn," he stopped her, watching as she stopped and glanced over her shoulder in his direction. "Thank you."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded silently in response before finally exiting the TARDIS.

* * *

The Doctor stepped outside his blue box and closed the door behind him. His eyes adjusted to the light of the setting sun and observed the form of his daughter as she quietly stood several paces ahead of him. Her attention was drawn towards the impressive view in the distance, remaining unaffected by the sense of his presence behind her.

Inhaling a deep breath, he returned his hands to his pockets and made his way across the sand to take his place beside her once more. As they stood together side by side, he couldn't help but notice her distracted gaze as if she were trapped beneath the weight of her own confliction. He didn't need to read her thoughts to understand the gravity of her internal battle with herself.

"They're resting comfortably now," he started, attempting to distract her from her inner turmoil. It was the least he could do. "As is to be expected, I suppose. Bringing new life into this world, couldn't have picked a better day for it," he added, admiring the sunset.

"My congratulations to you, Doctor," she replied somewhat absent-mindedly as her thoughts continued to consume her.

"Thanks, but it's Clara who deserves all the credit. All I did was believe in her." The moment between them became temporarily quiet as they looked out towards the brilliant sight ahead. He couldn't even imagine the thoughts invading her mind right then. How scared she must be of the repercussions awaiting her return. How alone she must feel as her betrayal finally set in. But above all, he wanted her to know what her selfless act really meant to him before he lost the opportunity to do so. "Quynn, what you did-"

"You have no idea what I've done," she stopped him harshly.

"Yes, I do," he looked to her with deepened certainty in his eyes. "You made a choice. The first of many, I hope."

Quynn lowered her head as if the words she needed to say were buried somewhere beneath the sand. The thoughts taking place in her mind were wreaking havoc upon the walls of security she built around herself. She was no longer sure of who she could trust anymore. "I need to know," she turned to look upon him with a new understanding of vengeance in her gaze. "Is it true? Are you my father?"

The question surprised him. He wasn't exactly sure how to respond. The reason he set out to bring her to this place was to convince her to question everything she believed to be true, to unveil even the smallest amount of humanity buried within her. Her act of kindness proved something inside of her had changed, that maybe his attempt to reach through to her had not been in vain. And yet, as much as he desired her acceptance and understanding, there was something of an even greater concern weighing down on his mind. The part of him that wanted to tell her everything was greatly outweighed by the fear of what she might do with that knowledge. He could see the hatred within her eyes, a look he knew better than anyone. Making an enemy of Missy on her own would be pointless suicide. If they worked together it was possible they could take her down, but he knew Quynn had no reason to trust an alliance with him. And even if he wanted to offer her one, her hearts were too cold and vengeful and without any remorse. She was of no use to him like that in the battle against his oldest friend. She still had so much to atone for before they would be able to trust each other. He wasn't entirely convinced she was ready for that just yet. The only way to keep his daughter from getting herself killed on a path of revenge against Missy laid within his ability to do a very clever thing.

"Do you know what the most interesting thing about truth is? It can never really be told. Not properly, that is. When left up to someone else, the truth will always come with their own influence attached. I'm afraid its real power can only be attained when we are able to see it for ourselves," he explained.

"Show me then," she insisted imperatively, then softened her tone at his raised brow. "Please."

"Are you sure you really want to know?"

"I've never been more sure of anything," she confirmed.

The Doctor took a moment to think about what he needed to do then inhaled a deep breath and nodded in acceptance. When he was ready, he slowly reached out towards the sides of his daughter's head. "I'll try to be gentle," he told her, hoping to calm her mind for a better link to her thoughts. She closed her eyes in preparation of what was to come as he brought his fingers to rest upon her temples. He closed his eyes and concentrated on creating a connection between their minds.

 _ _Quynn opened her eyes at the presence of his thoughts inside her own only to find she was no longer standing upon the shoreline as she remembered. As her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings, she suddenly experienced the unusual sensation of weightlessness as if she were somehow adrift in space. As she began to take in exactly where she was, she realized the sight before her was one she had seen a very long time ago. Tucked away within the cusp of a mountainous valley stood a small village. The sound of flowing water could be heard from the surrounding river followed by the unmistakable echo of children laughing from somewhere nearby. Turning her attention towards the sound, she observed as the small beings ran towards her, smiling and chasing each other as if engaged in some sort of game. As they came closer, they continued to run past her taking no notice of her presence in their world. Her eyes followed them to the end of the path where they stopped suddenly and peered far out into the distance.__

 _ _Approaching from the northernmost road, the recognizable shape of a large army was steadfastly making its way towards the small village. Their presence on the horizon produced an optical illusion as if they were floating towards them on a mirage of glassy water. As they came closer, the children screamed and abandoned their position on the path to retreat deeper into the village. As the army of soldiers fired upon the town, the screams of its inhabitants could be heard from miles in all directions. The buildings themselves were no match for their firepower as many of them crumbled to the ground while others were set ablaze. Quynn retained her position in the centre of the town as countless women and children fell to their death at her feet. "Stop this," she demanded of the man she was still bound to, angered by his intrusion of her forgotten memories. The army, having finally reached the village, began to proceed further into the peaceful place on a mission of pure evil. They swarmed like a plague of locusts on the path of destruction, firing upon every last soul still begging for their lives. Quynn slowly circled her position, witnessing the chaos forming all around her as the vision before her was suddenly replaced by another. One by one, she watched as every planet that had ever fallen by her wrath began to blend together like a continuous living painting depicting the very moment of their inevitable demise.__

 _ _"Release me!" s__ _ _he called out, attempting to break the connection between them herself but to no avail. He was much stronger than she could have ever imagined him to be. Everything around her was burning as if she were trapped within the fires of hell itself. Entire cities were collapsing to the ground in a blazing inferno while hellfire rained down upon her. Men, women, and children shed frightened tears as they fled from their homes into the streets. A young boy lost within the sea of terrified faces rushing passed him cried out for his mother. Quynn found herself overwhelmed by the vision's true power over her as a massive army of souls comprised of every being that had ever perished by her hands engulfed her like a great flood. Their countless screams tore through her mind with such ferocity it forced her to her knees. Covering her ears from the sheer volume of voices inside her head, she opened her mouth and screamed out in agony. "ENOUGH!"__

A flash of light returned her to her position on the shoreline. Opening her eyes, she was met by the familiar face of the Time Lord standing just in front of her, his hands still raised towards the sides of her head. The resonating bellow of screams still present inside her mind were so overpowering she felt her stomach turn with nausea. Quickly stepping away, she turned her back on him and folded in half as the sickness from within her was expelled onto the sand.

"Ah, yes. The first link is always the hardest," he confessed, turning his head away to give her the privacy she required. "Only the purest of telepathic minds could pass such a test on the first go. Perhaps there's more humanity in you than I thought there was. You'll have Clara to thank for that. Don't worry, I won't tell her. It'll be our little secret."  
Quynn, enraged by the assault on her mind, spun around and withdrew her sidearm to take aim at the centre of his chest. "What have you done?!" she asked angrily through gritted teeth as the voices screaming inside her head slowly began to fade.

The Doctor kept his hands at his sides and attempted not to make any sudden movements that might startle her. "I've done nothing but provide you with a glimpse into your own soul, a mirror to show you what you've become. That's what you wanted, isn't it? To know the truth?" His eyes glared at her from underneath his furrowed brows, "I never said whose truth."

"I should kill you where you stand!" she screamed with uncontrollable rage.

"So do it then. What's stopping you?" he provoked her, his voice rising with intensity. "You think I'm afraid of dying? I'm not even sure I can. I could just keep on regenerating. We could be at it all day. But know this. If I'm wrong and I die here today, then my truth will die with me. So I advise you to be very quick and very sure." He continued to stare her down, unafraid of the real threat being pointed in his direction. He knew he had the advantage. Of all the people he ever met, there was no one better at controlling a situation than he. In her weakened state, she didn't stand a chance against him. "Well? What are you waiting for?!" he shouted, raising his arms out from his sides. "I'm standing right here, right in front of you. Unarmed. Defenceless. Take your shot. Isn't that what you do? What you were programmed for? Or would you prefer it if I were in chains first? Make things even easier on yourself."

Quynn felt her grasp on the trigger weaken as her mother's instructions forced their way back to the front of her mind. She let out an exasperated growl and lowered her weapon back down to her side in submission. "The end of your rein will come soon enough, old man. A privilege I look forward to bestowing upon you most eagerly. Until that day, know this. You can run away all you like, but not for long. In the end, I __will__ find you."

"And I'll be waiting," he assured her, lowering his arms back down to his sides. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small silver object. "Here, take this," he insisted, tossing the device in her direction.

Instinctively catching it with her remaining hand, she examined its intricate design as her confusion consumed the expression on her face. "What is it?"

"A parting gift," he replied. "When you're ready to know the __real__ truth, you'll know what to do with it." Then he nodded his farewell and began to make his way back to the TARDIS.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

The sound of chalk tapping along the surface of a blackboard resonated off the walls of the room as Clara climbed up the metal steps towards the heart of the TARDIS. Coming around the console, she found him on the lower level, his back turned to her as he continued to be immersed in his work. She slowly approached him from behind and took a seat at the top of the stairs, observing intently as he appeared to be focused on some sort of Gallifreyan maths equation. She studied him quietly, allowing him the time he required during their temporary silence to distract himself from whatever was ailing his mind. After everything that happened between them over the past few days, it could hardly be narrowed down to one alone. There was a lot to be accounted for, after all. Their current situation wasn't what one might consider "normal" by any standard. But then again, when it came to the Doctor, what was? Though human parents typically spent this quality time together adapting to the lifestyle changes brought on by the birth of a new child, the Time Lord and his human companion were facing an entirely different set of challenges; most notably, the race against time.

The Doctor seemed rather distant since their daughter was born, wandering about the ship in a constant state of depression and wild deliberation. Though he looked in on his family from time to time, there was an unmistakable glimpse of sadness hiding behind his eyes whenever she found herself looking deep enough. He was both present and not at the same time. He hadn't held his daughter in his arms since the day he helped deliver her. Clara thought perhaps he was still trying to remain unattached so as not to allow his own devastation to consume him at the thought of never finding a way to stop Missy from taking her. Or perhaps he knew deep down that if they were to succeed it wouldn't even matter in the end. Though she hoped he'd desire a strong bond to form between them, he chose instead to deny himself the joys that came with fatherhood to concentrate all of his energy towards reaching the end. It pained Clara immensely to see him this way, watching as his affection and devotion slowly disintegrated over time to be repurposed as a means of winning the battle against Missy. As she continued to observe him with unspoken apprehension, she couldn't help but wonder what sort of man he was forcing himself to become.

"How is she?" he finally asked, breaking the silence in the room. His attention remained unfaltered from his work as he listened in for a response from her.

"She's sleeping finally. Dreaming of something magical, I hope," she answered, trying to mask her concern over his apparent absent-mindedness and disconnection from her.

"And you?"

She sighed lightly and thought for a moment about her answer. The sheer quantity of emotions thriving within her were so overwhelming she didn't know where to start. She had left her old life and everyone in it to remain by the Doctor's side. There wasn't a single person back on Earth who had any idea she was even gone. There were no baby showers or congratulations awaiting her return as she knew she'd never be returning, at least not in this reality. She felt so very alone and abandoned by the man she loved even though he hadn't actually left her. She felt weighed down with uncertainty and bound by the capabilities she knew she must ensue as a new mother. But she was strong, she knew she could endure the pain of loneliness for as long as she had to if it meant they'd survive this together. What worried her more than all of that was the feeling of something evolving inside of her she didn't know how to explain in words alone nor understood what it meant. "It's all a bit surreal, I think. I'm slowly coming to understand what it takes to be a real mother. And yet, when I look at her, I sometimes can't believe she's really here. I can't help but think only a few days ago she was living and growing inside of me. When I close my eyes, I swear I can still feel her moving around in there. But now that she's finally here, it's almost as if there's an emptiness within me. Like a void. I had become so used to her warmth, I hadn't realized how much I'd miss it when it was gone." She lowered her head and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them tightly to her chest as she thought about how much she missed everything that came with his affection.

"All of that will pass with time, I'm sure," he replied, continuing to face away from her.

Clara nodded quietly to herself and tried not to develop an emotional attachment over the lack of sympathy in his response. She couldn't bring herself to object to his sudden avoidance of her as she felt responsible for its existence in the first place. The guilt she carried in her heart over her last confession to him had been born from fear and spite, a confession she knew to be both cruel and untrue. During that moment of extreme desperation, she had become a victim of her own failure in the ultimate test of strength and taken it out on him in the most undeserving way. Though he had come through on his promise to get their child back, her regrets of that day were tearing her apart. "Doctor. What I said before, about hating you," she began, trying to find the words housed somewhere beneath the layers of her thoughts.

"There's no need to explain. I already know," he stopped her, maintaining concentration on his work.

As much as she felt he deserved an explanation to what was really going on in her mind, she knew that wasn't the sort of thing he'd often take the time to listen to out of his own free will. Though his words helped to remind her of his ability to see beyond her anger and through to her own heart, she needn't rely on their bond to know there was something much larger than her insecurity taking priority in his mind. "What's troubling you then?"

"What makes you think I'm troubled?" he asked, raising his brow towards the blackboard as he wrote.

She glanced down at the ground below his feet, taking notice of the active battlefield around him littered with broken chalk pieces lying murdered by his frustration. "Oh, I dunno. Wild guess?" Returning her attention to whatever he was working on, she allowed her thoughts to become strategic and analytical in process. If she truly wished to discover what was going on in that daft mind of his, she would have to think like him. She would need to depend upon her knowledge of how he functioned under pressure in order to form a suitable reason for his diversion. If she hadn't been the cause of it, then what had? Taking a moment to comb through the events over the past few days and carefully taking into consideration everything he told her, it suddenly made perfect sense. "You're worried. You're wondering if you've done the right thing."

"Perhaps I have, or perhaps not. Only time will tell," he answered, unsurprised by her accusation.

"She could have taken our child away, but she didn't. She could have killed you and left your body back on that beach, but she didn't. That has got to count for something, shouldn't it?" she asked, trying to bring even the smallest amount of positivity to their conversation.

"That's not what concerns me," he replied, taking a step back from his work to observe it in its entirety. He folded his arms at his chest and brought the chalk to his chin as his mind continued to wander.

"What is it then?"

He turned around to face her for the first time at the question, "Well, for one, we're still here."

Clara felt her eyes narrow with perplexity at his statement of the obvious, "Yeah, not following."

"Time has yet to be rewritten. We're still trapped within our infinite loop," he explained, gesturing to the space around them.

"And what, you thought Quynn changing her mind would have saved us?" she wondered, trying to latch onto whatever thought pattern he was attempting to pull her towards.

"No, I knew that wouldn't have worked. Well, __probably__ wouldn't have worked." He observed intently as her questioning brow tore right through his cleverly disguised deception. "Okay, so I wasn't exactly ruling it out at the time," he confessed. He turned and slowly paced in front of her, taking a moment to allow his thoughts to reorder themselves in a more linear path so she would understand. "But had that been the case, everything would have reverted back to the way it was before by now. This conversation wouldn't even be happening. Though it may seem like we are no better off than we were a few days ago, I believe Quynn may have proved herself more useful to us than I originally thought. Her sudden change of heart might not have been enough to alter the course of history altogether, but perhaps her act of kindness was exactly the push we needed to help shift ourselves out of this loop." Turning his attention back to the blackboard, he placed his hand on top of it and rotated it around to reveal a blank workspace on the other side.

"Why do I suddenly get the feeling there's a theory coming on?" she frowned.

"Hush," he ignored her. Grasping the chalk, he began to draw a straight line across the bottom of the blackboard with a gap directly in the centre of it. "Now pay attention. In order to fully understand __how__ we will break out of the loop, we must first explore the nature of the loop itself." He brought his hand to the very middle of the board and drew a circle in alignment with the gap. "This circle represents us at the very moment this all started. Consider it a marble containing everything we know to be true leading up to that moment. And this," he paused, drawing an arrow from the circle straight down through the gap in the bottom line, "represents the path of our infinite timeline. Constantly moving forward, never changing. The marble travels down its own timeline, unaware of what lies ahead of it, until one day it gets sent back in time." He proceeded to draw a second circle at the top of the blackboard, followed by an arrow from the second circle straight down to the first one. "Staying true to its original course, the marble will travel towards its past self, thereby striking it and sending it forward down its timeline to be sent back in time to encounter its past self. A never-ending loop, forever trapped for all of eternity. Unless, of course, you were able to alter the angle of impact." He quickly turned around and pointed at her with the end of the chalk. "Question: Why did you try to kill yourself back on Messaline?"

She found herself blinking with surprise at his abrasiveness, unsure of how to respond. "I, uh-"

"Conjecture: Because you knew something was wrong," he interrupted, then returned his attention to the blackboard. Reaching towards the top, he drew a series of circles tightly overlapping each other atop the second circle. "Each of these circles represent an unknowable amount of cycles we've made through the loop. All nearly identical to each other, but with one small difference. You see, each time we've repeated the same series of events that have led us to this point in our timeline, something more has followed us back. Little pieces of our previous selves have begun to bleed through causing small ripples in the fabric of time. Those slight variations from one cycle to the next may seem minuscule and insignificant at first glance, but over time they could have catastrophic consequences. If you're a paradox that is." He took his time drawing lines from each of the new circles towards the original one in the centre, then turned back to her. "Imagine you're skipping stones over a body of water. You throw the stone over and over again towards the same destination but no matter how hard you try, no stone will ever land in the same place twice. Why? Because of small changes in the atmospheric pressure, the pull of gravity, the average wind resistance, the density of the water, the size and weight of the stone, the number of skips, the velocity of the throw. Every single one of these factors will undoubtedly alter the final destination of each stone. But in the end, they will all still sink in the water, as stones do," he paused momentarily. "Which I now realize isn't strictly relevant. Skip that last part. What I mean is, even the smallest change from one cycle to the next would cause the angle of the marble's path through time to be shifted by a mere fraction. In other words, the marble will continue to strike itself over and over again at a slightly different angle than before until it eventually knocked itself completely off course, thus never being sent back in time to begin with. Boom. The timeline disintegrates." Picking up the eraser beside him, he quickly dragged it across the board to erase all of the circles then turned around to face her once more. "Any questions?"

Clara's expression reflected that of sheer exhaustion both in mind and body as she held her head up by her temples and allowed her thoughts to catch up to her. "A few, but let's start with the obvious one. __How__ exactly do we plan to knock ourselves out of the loop?"

"No idea."

"Great. Good thing I was sitting down through all of that then," she replied, allowing her head fall to her knees defeatedly.

The Doctor set down the chalk and approached her at the stairs, concerned by her increasing display of weariness towards his lack of comforting conversation. He relied so heavily on her ability to retain a positive outlook when it came to keeping other people alive that he forgot how to be that for her in return. "There is one thing I do know. Whatever course of action is required to get us out hasn't been done yet, otherwise we wouldn't still be here. Which means it would have to be something I wouldn't normally do, something dangerously outside my level of comfort. Something risky. So, what's the best way to find out if a plan is going to work? You do it. Starting with step one: Discover the cause of the loop. Step two: Form an exit strategy. Step three: Change the future." He eyed her carefully and allowed her a moment to process his words in her own time.

Clara slowly lifted her head from her knees and stared at the old man objectively. She knew that look in his eyes all too well. Taking the time to grasp what he was really trying to say, she realized he wasn't just lecturing her on the cause and effects of the universe as he always did when he was trying to come up with a plan. He was being clever. He was testing her. This was his way of determining whether or not she had been paying attention, which almost always meant he was about to do something she wouldn't approve of. He was seeking her validation, luring her in for some underlying purpose, and he needed her on his side. The wheels in her head began to spin as she thought about the real reason they set out on this path to begin with, until it finally hit her. "Except we already know what caused this. We know Missy needs the baby to continue the loop. Which means you have to get close to her to find out how she wins in order to change the outcome. And you can't do that unless she has the baby. That's what this is all about."

"Precisely," he smiled, feeling elated by his success in reviving his partner in crime from her extended dormancy. "We only assumed Missy would come for the child, but what if we've been going about it all wrong? What if our only means of breaking out of the loop depended entirely upon us giving her up willingly?" he implored her.

"And you seriously thought I'd be okay with that plan? Have I missed something? Wasn't the whole point of everything we've been trying to do meant to __stop__ Missy from sending Quynn back to the past?" she objected, fighting to keep her defensive nature to a minimum.

"It still is. That hasn't changed," he assured her.

"I don't understand," she replied as her inner hostility gained in strength. "You said nothing would happen to us, that we would be safe here under your protection. You gave me your word, Doctor. I trusted you. And now that she is finally a part of our lives, you're telling me you want to just give her away? Is her life really so expendable to you?"

His smile faded at her harsh accusation, feeling every bit of it cutting right through to his beating hearts. Inhaling a deep breath, he cautiously ascended the steps and took a seat next to her at the top of the stairs. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him, allowing his thoughts to brew for a moment before responding to her calmly. "I know how all of this must sound to you. I understand you are upset, I haven't given you any reason not to be. But if there is any part of you that actually believes I __want__ to give her up, even to save our lives, then you don't know me at all. So please, do not accuse me of being so heartless." He lowered his glance to the steps below him, knowing what little had been said between them the past few days. "I know I haven't been there for you, that I haven't brought myself to become what you hoped I'd be for her. There's nothing I want more than to be by your side, for us to be a family. Have you any idea how painful it has been for me to watch as you fall more in love with her each day, knowing I will never be able to give you the life I dream we could have together? Do you think I enjoy my time down here all alone, spending all hours of the night and day apart from you? I don't do it because I want to, I do it because I must. I do not have the luxury of pretending everything is going to be fine in the end, that whatever fate is in store for us isn't waiting just beyond those doors." He sighed and ran his hands down his exhausted face, trying his hardest to keep his own heartbreak from revealing itself in her presence. "My entire world is falling apart all around me, Clara. I'm doing the best I can to hold all the pieces together. It seems the longer I try to hold them, the quicker they slip from my grasp. By now, Missy must know our child has been born. It's only a matter of time before she'll expect me to come through on my part of the deal. And if I don't, she still has access to the future and the means to kill you." He turned his attention towards his companion's sympathetic expression and gazed apologetically into her eyes. "I'm sorry, but now that you've given birth, you've become expendable to her. As long as our child still lives, she no longer needs you alive to carry out her plans. She knows what you mean to me. She knows she can threaten to hurt you just to get to me. And she will. Unless I can stop her first." He slowly reached over and carefully placed his hand into hers, their fingers curling as they entwined with one another. "Do you trust me, Clara?" he spoke softly, desperate for her comfort and understanding.

She glanced down at their held hands, feeling his thumb softly stroking across the surface of her skin. It was so rare an act for him to open himself up to her in such a way, especially when it mattered. She knew he would never ask her to risk her life or their child's unless he was certain he could win without either of them being harmed. No matter how dangerous or insane or suicidal his ideas turned out to be, the one thing she could always count on was his duty of care. She would never ever give that up, not for anything. Their dependence upon each other had gotten them through even the worst of situations, this one was no different. "I trust you, Doctor," she confirmed, gently squeezing his hand to assure him she would always be by his side. "What do we do?"

He willed a weak smile to his face and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly before placing his other hand on top. "We play the game, over and over again if we have to. Until we beat it." He looked to his companion, feeling comforted by the thought that she remained a constant in his life during these dark times. He knew he had taken their friendship for granted more often than he dared to admit, which left a lot to make up for. If there was one aspect of himself he could take with him after all of this was finally over, it would be the memory of her admirable compassion. The best he could hope for in the end was the chance he'd finally find the courage to tell her what she meant to him before it was too late. As impossible as it was to know for certain what their future relationship would evolve into, there would be no future for them at all if they didn't succeed. The only thing left for them to do was continue the mission. "If there was any other way, I'd take it. I'm afraid defeating Missy is the only way to end this. She'll expect a fight, so we're going to give her one. Except this time, it'll come with my own set of strings attached. I'll need her to think she has won if this is to work. So long as she believes she's winning the battle, she'll never anticipate the war until it's over."

"So you have a plan then?" she asked hopefully.

"Less of a plan, more of a thing. But soon the answer will be, 'Yes, I have a plan,'" he answered, trying to remain as positive as he could so as not to lose her confidence in him. "I cannot bring Missy down on my own without help. As long as she remains protected behind her wall of defence, I'll never reach the end. I won't be able to stop her." He lowered his head and sighed, feeling just as diminished as he did the day Missy turned down his offer. If he truly wished to beat her at her own game, he would need the equivalent of an entire army on his side all working together. "I need Quynn, Clara. I can't do this without her."

Clara nodded reluctantly, unsure of how to feel about the amount of dependence he was putting towards their daughter's decision to betray the woman who raised her. "Do you think she will help us?"

"We'll know the answer to that soon enough, I suppose," he replied, realizing what little time he had left to wait for her. "All I do know is when she's ready, she'll come to us."

"For our sake, I hope you're right," she replied, doing her best to stay supportive during this time of uncertainty. "Well, speaking of our daughter, I better go check on her before the TARDIS decides to play revolving rooms again. We really need to come up with a better arrangement." She let go of his hand and grabbed the rail beside her, pulling herself to a standing position. As she turned to make her way towards the console, she suddenly felt the startling sensation of heat burning low in her abdomen unlike anything she ever felt before - like fire but without the pain. It happened so fast she hardly had time to react. She winced aloud and brought a hand to her middle as the feeling intensified. She tightly shut her eyes and concentrated on the foreign affliction. Before she could determine the cause of her ailment, her thoughts were interrupted by a series of images flashing into her mind uncontrollably - visions she had never seen before. A room, a bed, two people engaged in a display of passionate love for one another. She saw herself crying out with euphoria, a sweat glistened upon her brow. And then she saw __him__. He held her delicately in his grasp, worshipping every part of her body as if it were a temple. His familiar form was pressed on top of hers. She could feel him carefully pushing himself deep inside of her, urging her to open wider for him. A sense of greater purpose could be seen in his eyes as he filled her. She felt their heat, their passion, the intensity of his love all pouring into her. And she wanted more. The images were so real and so powerful she gasped at the sensation of it. Her eyes flew open to the space around her once again.

"Clara?" he called worryingly. He quickly gathered himself from the floor and gently took her by the arm to steady her. "Are you alright?"

She found herself startled by his touch, unsure of what was happening inside of her. "Yeah, uh, a bit light-headed is all. Probably just tired," she lied, taking a moment to clear the visions from her mind.

His brow raised suspiciously as his concern for her well-being took over the expression on his face. "Yes, probably that," he eyed her, feeling the heat of her body quickly rising beneath his grasp. Something was definitely wrong.

"There's no need to worry, I'll be alright," she assured him, bringing a smile to her face. Taking a step towards him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek hoping her simple display of affection would be enough to distract him from fretting over her. "Don't work too hard, Doctor," she added, removing herself from his side and leaving him to his thoughts.

"Okay, boss," he agreed, watching intently as she made her way to the other side of the room and down the stairs out of sight. Once clear of her, he quickly stepped towards the console and brought the view-screen around in front of him. "Medical analysis, Clara Oswald," he ordered the machine. He waited patiently as the TARDIS located his human companion within her walls and scanned the female's body for possible threats. After a moment, the results were promptly displayed upon the screen. A hint of dread came over him as he observed the image before him. The scans showed the progression of the virus thriving inside of her. To his dismay, the infection managed to spread its way throughout the entirety of her mind. He needn't scan himself to know he too had lost the battle against their illness. It had finally won. He hung his head and sighed, unsure of what this would mean for either one of them. All he did know was there was nothing he could do to help her. This was something she'd have to fight on her own.

* * *

 _New Sparta, Arcadia 3135 A.D._

The night's absence of moonlight piercing the darkness foreshadowed the fate of every living soul behind the once impregnable walls of the armoured city. The inevitability of its much-anticipated downfall had become the most sought after achievement of more than a thousand warrior races in its extended history, though none had ever succeeded. The knowledge of this realm's often celebrated immortality stretched far beyond the stars, bringing with it significant temptation to those hell-bent on witnessing the fortress's destruction. Passed down from generation to generation, the tales of its victory told throughout the centuries had become that of legend to the citizens of this metallic kingdom. And yet, like the fall of Troy in the infamous Achaeanian war, it was only a matter of time before the city's defences had worn thin with age and weakened by the continuous sieges against it. Whether due to the hubris of their species or by the will of the gods, sooner or later all great things must come to an end.

The resonating cacophony of defending gunfire drowned the screams of defenceless women and children fleeing for their lives as their beloved sanctuary burned all around them. The breached city walls groaned and creaked loudly with objection, their integrity now compromised by a force far greater than anything they had ever been met with. Those of the highest-ranking status and stature were shown to be of no greater value than their own livestock ripe for the slaughter. Anyone still fighting to stay alive was forced into retreat deep inside the underbelly of the city's most sacred grounds. As the air grew thick with smoke and ash, the countless pleas for help from those left abandoned on the surface began to die out leaving an eerie quiet in its place.

From the shadows appeared a legendary creature of great power. Her black cloak drifted over the fallen debris like the cold touch of death as she passed. Behind her, a loyal army of ten thousand strong accompanied their Commander deep into the ruins of the shattered city. The earth shook beneath their feet as they marched forward. Their ballads of victory stretched far beyond this foreign kingdom bringing horror and despair to the hearts of their enemies.

Approaching from the easternmost section of the city's central square, a lone scout made his way towards the familiar form of his superior standing before him like a god. "Sir," he addressed the Raven, bowing respectively.

Turning her attention towards the soldier, she glared down at him from behind her shaded mask. "Report," she instructed, her voice feigned and distorted.

The scout cleared his throat and presented a battle-ready server pad containing the data he gathered of the city's structures and garrison. "The first wave of artillery was successful in disabling nearly all of their main defences both inside the city and along the perimeter walls. Their remaining forces have retreated just beyond the borders of the capitol building. They've taken defensive positions in at least three known locations throughout the city," he informed her, highlighting specific areas on the map's interface for her to observe. "It has come to our attention that a large number of their legions have been concentrated in one area in particular," he continued, enlarging the map to a digital rendering of a massive columned building. "The temple of Hestia. According to our scanners, there's a series of tunnels running underneath the city that can only be accessed from inside. It has been suggested they are utilizing the tunnels and crypts to offer sanctuary to the women and children seeking refuge there. We've discovered the temple grounds to be heavily armoured and well-defended. Those still fighting to protect it are proving more difficult to eliminate than we originally anticipated."

"How admirable," she replied, allowing a small snicker to escape through her mask, "and here I was beginning to think we had come all this way for nothing." Though pleased at how effortlessly the city seemed to have fallen under her control, she expected to find greater resistance from those who so boastfully claimed to be forged from that of legend. Before their departure, she had become just as well-versed in the tales of triumph told throughout the land as she had of the trials and tribulations of her predecessors. All of which had attempted to take the city by force and failed. Their misfortunes on the battlefield had become quite the tactical advantage when it came to paving the way for her own army's success. If it hadn't been for their downfall, this day might have been awarded to another. "Never fear a challenge, my friend. It only makes our victory that much more rewarding in the end."

"What are your orders, sir?"

Returning her attention towards the direction of the sacred temple, she almost pitied them. Their refusal to accept their place under her command was the sole cause of their demise. And now, as they faced certain death, the only thing they had left to cling to in this world was hope for their species. Where were their Gods now? Where was their heroic knight in shining blue armour so tirelessly determined to set things right in the universe? He had abandoned them, and yet they would still choose to sacrifice themselves waiting for a coward in a box to save them rather than accept their fate. She felt her face furrow in a sudden fit of resentment and loathing, though she wasn't entirely certain it was them who were to blame for it. "Obliterate them," she instructed.

"What of the women and children?" he inquired, holding his intimidation of her at bay.

Taking a moment to consider her answer more carefully, she became lost in thought as if she had been pulled into the void of her own contemplation. Somewhere deep inside of her mind, she felt as though every cell in her body had slowly been poisoned over time ever since the day she first regenerated. Where she once strove to mould and shape the universe by way of order and destruction, a larger part of her could not help but feel her purpose had become monotonous and unfulfilling. There were times when she found herself yearning for something much greater than what she spent her entire life hoping to achieve. This was the only life she had ever known. She had caused more pain and suffering in her lifetime than her memory could even recollect. By her own reasoning, it was already too late for her to become anything else. Perhaps the Doctor was right. Perhaps the day would come when the countless number of lives she sought to destroy finally weighed heavy on her soul. But until that day, there was still an army to command and a war to be won.

"Sir?"

Regaining her mind, she peered back at the scout and confidently delivered her answer, "Leave no one alive."

"Yes, sir," he replied, bowing in compliance.

As the scout took his leave of her presence, she sensed something of a rather disturbing nature beginning to form around her. Something she could not have anticipated. " _ _Quynn,__ " a voice suddenly whispered to her with the passing breeze. Her gaze was pulled towards the direction of a large columned structure left modestly unscathed by the surrounding siege. Being drawn to the sound, she removed herself from her stagnant position on the street and made her way towards the building alone. Slowly approaching the colossally-sized entrance, she observed a figure stirring amongst the shadows from within. She paused just outside and listened in for the voice's return only to find silence in its place. Perhaps she simply imagined it. Or perhaps it was unworthy of any further investigation on her part. The thought of abandoning her curiosity in favour of the building's destruction crossed her mind when the sound of someone's footsteps could be heard originating from somewhere inside. Silently drawing her sidearm, she cautiously stepped foot onto the marble tiles and proceeded into the room on a mission to locate the source.

"I know you're here," she called out, her voice echoing back to her from every direction as it reverberated off the walls and high ceilings. Advancing into the uncharted expanse, a long row of variously sized bronze statues depicting the old gods of Earth could be well observed between every structural pillar on either side of her. Her senses remained on high alert as she made her way deeper into the meticulously designed space. Her tactically trained skills of observation helped her to scan every possible niche and cavity in search of potential threats concealed within. The farther she strode into the unknown the more she could feel the familiar presence of someone she knew all too well lurking in the shadows as if they were watching her. "There's no use in hiding, you'll only prolong the inevitable," she called again, attempting to lure them out. Beyond the next area, the distinctive sound of footsteps from someone retreating farther into darkness was followed by a series of hushed whispers. "If you think you can save them, you're too late. You've already lost," she expressed with confidence as she tentatively followed the voices into the adjacent room. In the centre of the columned chamber sat several long tables between accompanying rows of hand-crafted wooden chairs, a dining hall perhaps.

A rustling noise from somewhere beside her drew her glance towards the darkened spaces of the room. Her eyes observed the silhouette of someone quickly passing behind the columns. She caught a glimpse of crimson red shining brightly from the lining of their coat as the light welcomed it. "Come out and face me, Doctor," she called to him malevolently, slowly stalking towards the shadows as if she were hunting prey. Another noise from the opposite side of the dining hall claimed her attention. Her pace quickened as she strode across it towards the sound. Just before reaching another doorway, she stopped in her tracks. From the shadowy the centre of the next room stood the familiar form of a man. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his face was shrouded in darkness, but she knew it was him. Though she couldn't see his face, she was sure he was smiling at her. Raising her sidearm, she aimed it at his hearts with the determination that this time she would not miss. Her finger upon the trigger, she observed as he stepped forward into the light and looked back at her with his piercing green eyes. An eerie silence fell between them as they stared at each other. In her hesitation, he turned and headed out of sight towards the other side of the room before she could fire. "Stop!" she commanded, rushing weapon first through the doorway after him. As she entered what appeared to be a small kitchen, she was prepared to find him waiting for her just inside. But what she discovered was not what she expected as her eyes met with the frightened faces of a mother and her young boy cowering in the corner against a solid wall. In her arms, she held a newborn baby girl close to her chest. Quynn stared at them in disbelief as it suddenly dawned on her that there were no other doors aside from the one she had come through, making these creatures the only other life forms in the room. Bewildered by the sight of them, she took aim. The mother softly pleaded for their lives and held her children tightly. As Quynn attempted to grasp what was happening to her, her glance lowered towards the small baby.

 _"_ _ _She's beautiful, isn't she?"__ the Doctor's voice whispered as if it were calling to her from every wall and corner of the room. She quickly spun around and aimed her weapon towards the shadows only to find them vacant of any life. She felt her hearts beat even faster at the sudden disturbance, becoming frightened by her mind's apparent rejection of all reason. The sound of her accelerated breathing resonated from inside her mask as she continued to search for him. Her thoughts began to betray her the more she tried to convince herself that this was all just an illusion, just a trap masterfully designed by him in order to weaken her defences. And yet, what if it wasn't? What if it was far worse than that? _"_ _ _Her story has yet to be written,"__ he spoke softly from behind her. She turned around towards the source, her weapon aiming blindly into the darkness surrounding her. The sound of the infant's whimpering forced Quynn's attention back to the family cowering before her. Her weapon instinctively drew itself towards the terrified faces staring up at her. Her gaze returned to the small girl being protectively cradled in her mother's arms. _"_ _ _She can grow up to be anything she wants to be,"__ he called again, this time from the centre of her mind. His words were so very clear and possessing it was as if she had spoken them herself. She glanced over at the young boy. The sight of his tears suddenly triggered her memory of the child lost within the sea of screaming faces as he cried out for his mother. The image of his village burning all around him had stained itself in her memory ever since the Doctor gained access to her thoughts. Whatever he had done to her, it was clear that no matter how strong she had become, no matter how many people had to fall in order for her to succeed, there was no army in the universe large enough to defeat him in the battle against her own mind. He knew exactly what he was doing.

An explosion originating from somewhere in the city caused the building to creak and groan, suddenly breaking her of her trance. The sound of the walls shedding centuries worth of dust and sand between its cracks was heard hitting the floor as the structure became increasingly unstable. From somewhere within the boundaries of the massive building, she could hear the faint voices of her soldiers making their way inside. Their footsteps drew closer to her location. It was only a matter of time before they were inevitably discovered. Her weapon trembling in her grasp, she lowered her arm and allowed it to fall to her side. Taking one last look at the faces of her enemy, she inhaled a deep breath and offered them the single most important advice they would ever hear. "Run."

Making the solitary journey back to her ship through the mass of decaying bodies all around her, she finally arrived at the base camp just outside the city's outer defences. She hadn't even remembered leaving. All she could think about was getting as far away from that place as possible. Once aboard, she made her way down the corridors in silence. The doors to her battle-room opened as she approached. Inside she discovered several of her lieutenants hovered over data schematics and tactical protocols. Their heads raised at her entrance.

"Leave me," she instructed, her demeanour fierce and threatening.

"Sir?" one of the soldiers asked, confused by the sudden interruption of her presence in the room.

"I SAID LEAVE ME!" she screamed, removing her sidearm to point it directly at the next highest-ranking soldier in the room.

Without further argument, the soldiers gathered up their materials as quickly as they could and made their way towards the exit. She found herself now completely alone within the confines of her battle-room. Replacing her weapon at her side, she removed her gloves and placed them on the console table in front of her. Lowering her hood, she unfastened the cloak from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the ground behind her. She raised her hands to her head and removed the mask from her face before clipping it to her hip. As she did, her mind was suddenly flooded with the screams of her victims as if they were crying out all at once. She grasped the sides of her head as their voices pulsated through her mind and shattered her from the inside. The returned visions of their horrific deaths were so powerful she screamed out in agony in an attempt to make them desist. She felt her nails tearing at her own flesh as she tried to escape from them. The thought of killing herself just to end her pain entered her mind when the voices suddenly stopped. She gasped for breath and braced herself against the surface of the table as her mind began to reset itself. No matter how hard she tried to resist it, she knew this was the price she had been forced to pay at the cost of uncovering the truth. As the Doctor's confession filtered back into her thoughts, her reflection continued to stare back at her.

Returning to her natural stance, she reached into her pocket and retrieved the device he once gifted her so many years ago. Having kept it with her all this time, its purpose remained a mystery ever since the day she could last recall being in his presence. __So small a thing__ , she thought, and yet important enough to have risked his life just to give it to her. " _ _When you're ready to know the real truth, you'll know what to do with it,__ " his voice echoed into her thoughts once more. Twirling it around in her hand, she noticed the green light lit up on one side remained unchanged since last she saw it. Examining it more closely, she discovered a small round opening located at either end. A charging port or data link perhaps? She instinctively glided her finger over the opening as if searching for a clue to its meaning. Before she could question its purpose any further, she was suddenly startled by something sharp piercing through her finger. She winced aloud at the pain, allowing the device to fall from her grasp onto the console table. A pool of blood began to form at her fingertip. A few seconds later, another green light appeared atop the device opposite the first. Without warning, the table's view-screen flickered and switched on as all of its internal systems fully activated to the technology being presented. Scanning the device, the interface quickly began to download the stored data onto its memory drive. Her attention shifted to the console as the words "download complete" flashed upon the screen. Though afraid of what she would discover once she chose to follow the path of uncertainty in search of answers, deep down, she already knew what she would find. She could not turn back now. After a brief hesitation, she opened the file and expanded its contents to display in the form of a holographic projection in front of her. The image revealed two separate yet nearly identical triple helix DNA strands, both originating from the same source. The readings indicated the first blood sample had been procured from that of a half-human female, extracted on the very same day Quynn had last seen the Doctor. The second more concerning sample was her own. The scan showed the same blood type and species as the first, with only one noticeable difference. Of the two specimens, only one of them had gone through a complete cellular regeneration.

Quynn leaned against the table and hung her head in deepened contemplation. After all this time, the truth had finally been revealed. The thoughts tearing through her mind were so vastly overwhelming she found herself laughing aloud with spiteful cynicism, her voice striking the walls of the ship with ferocity. Taking a moment to compose herself, she lifted her head and returned her attention towards the image floating before her. As the devastating truth about her existence began to set in, she could feel her fury forged from the fires of her mother's betrayal rising from within her. She clenched her fist in a fit of anger and slammed it upon the table, shattering the glass beneath it. As her hatred began to boil and fester, she knew there was only one thing left for her to do.

* * *

The familiar sound of the Doctor's voice reverberated off the walls and nearby corridors of the ship as Clara made her way towards the console room. She quietly paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened in to the energetically charged one-sided conversation taking place above her. From what she could hear, he appeared to be engaged in some sort of advantageous narrative with himself. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she quietly climbed the metal steps to meet the form of her best friend holding their baby in one arm and a spoon in his other hand.

"Do you want to know how I did it? Go on, ask me. Okay, I'll tell you. I switched on the antigrav, of course! Then I drove that motorbike up the side of the building all the way to the sixty-fifth floor!" He pointed the spoon out in front of him and continued, "I pulled out my screwdriver, aimed it at the glass, and soniced my way right into her office! The look on her face. Hilarious." A wide childish grin spread across his face as the baby gazed up at him in amazement.

"The day we first met," Clara chimed in as she approached them from across the room. "Our first adventure together. She must really like that one."

"So do I," he admitted, shifting his focus towards the sound of his companion's voice.

"What's with the spoon?" she asked with a laugh.

"Practical effect. I was short a spoon-headed killer robot lying around and had to make do in a bit of a rush," he answered, exhaling his breath upon the metal then polished it off on his coat.

"Ah. Equally terrifying, I'm sure," she replied humorously. Reaching the console, she lightly grazed her fingers over the buttons and controls before stopping at the view-screen. She peered up at its display as if expecting something new to be discovered there only to find its idle status remained unchanged since last she had seen it. In fact, nothing about their current situation had changed over the last several weeks ever since the Doctor first explained his theory behind their multi-cycle loop. As the days continued to wear on, she couldn't help but wonder how much time had been afforded to them before it was finally up. If he __did__ have a plan, he certainly kept her in the dark about it. Perhaps he was biding his time. Or perhaps he had yet to find a solution with the least amount of risk to their lives. Either way, she felt entirely pointless during this time of uncertainty.

If there was one thing he had taught her throughout their many travels together, it was how to utilize whatever was readily available in order to successfully manoeuvre their way through any unfavourable situation. __Work the room, look for clues, discover your enemy's weakness.__ Whether he relied on her ability to be incredibly clever whenever the situation called for it or simply tasked her with causing a distraction, she brought a sense of value and purpose to the table he often found desirable. But now, everything seemed a little too quiet, a little too routine, a little too... human. She wasn't so sure if she knew how to be that anymore nor remembered how it felt to live a normal life again. As much as she wanted to be a part of whatever crazy idea he had hidden up his sleeve, it hadn't exactly sat well with her knowing he chose to entrust their fate in the hands of a psychopath.

"Any word?" she asked, turning around to face him. He sighed and shook his head at the question. "And Missy?"

"Nothing," he confessed.

"Well, maybe there's a bright side. Maybe she's changed her mind," she suggested, amused with herself as he responded to her humour by frowning in her direction. "Yeah, I know. Just wishful thinking, I guess." She leaned back against the console and smiled at the sight of him gently rocking their infant in his arms. She noticed a significant change in his demeanour over the past week or so. He had become exceptionally caring and more involved in their lives as if embracing the thought of what it would be like to finally settle down. Though a strangely foreign sight to her, she had grown particularly fond of the way fatherhood looked on him. It was nice to see him happy for a change despite their unfortunate circumstances.

The Doctor replaced the spoon inside his breast pocket then softly stroked his thumb over their daughter's small brow until she eventually fell asleep in his grasp. He tenderly kissed the top of her head then carefully lowered her into the bassinet beside him.

"You're really good with her," she admired from afar.

"I've had a lot of practice," he replied, delicately draping a blanket over the small girl.

"You know what I think?" she continued, slowly approaching him from behind. "I think you were better at being a father than you let on."

"I may have had my moments." He glanced down at his child and smiled fondly as he recalled a time back long ago when he spent his nights watching over his children as they slept. Back when things seemed so simple.

As she reached him, a familiar heat began to rise within her at their closeness. Though she had become accustomed to its unfaltering persistence within her, it was significantly different than the warmth she experienced during her pregnancy. This particular fieriness burned deep in her belly whenever she was near him. She thought perhaps it was just another side-effect of their bond, that maybe their feelings for each other had been amplified ever since they had become a part of each other. Whatever the cause, the sensation was both exhilarating and increasingly sensual. "I find that incredibly attractive," she admitted, tracing her fingers down the centre of his chest.

"Do you?" he asked, his attention being drawn to her sudden affection. As he peered down at her big brown eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of security in her presence. No matter the turmoil they faced, she was always prepared to stand by his side. Without her, he was sure he would have forgotten how to breathe. He brought his hands around her waist and gently pulled her in closer. "Are you sure it isn't my impeccable charm? My superior intelligence? My dazzling dress sense? I've a whole list to choose from," he noted, grinning to himself.

"Lest we forget your inflated ego," she added, smiling up at him brightly. "We could fill a raft and float out to sea on that."

"You never know when that might come in handy," he countered.

"What, and give you another reason to feel clever? I'd never hear the end of it," she teased, wrapping her arms around his thin frame. She comfortably rested her head against his chest as they looked in on the sleeping girl. "Is it strange we named our daughter after herself?" she asked rhetorically. "I mean, try explaining that one in normal conversation."

"Stranger things have happened," he answered vaguely, inclining the memories of those from his marital past to be left where they were. Tilting her chin towards his lips, he leaned down to kiss her. He hardly remembered the last time she had been in his arms, a fault he would greatly consider to be his own. Finding the perfect balance between rising to the top of his intellectual game and his desire to become the lover she deserved was an impossible task. And yet, the longer they stayed hidden away waiting for something to happen the more he could feel the scale tipping in her direction. The few precious moments remaining between now and the inevitable fight to the finish line was all the time he had left to love her this way.

As she engaged herself in his romantic gesture, their affection for each other began to electrify the space all around them. Elated by their sudden intimacy, he took her aside and anxiously herded her towards the console to lean her against it. Their bodies united as one as they continued to kiss each other. Once timid and frightened of what his feelings for her might lead to, he found himself truly comforted by the love she continued to gift him with. A love that opened more doors into their relationship than he ever thought were possible. She had gone from a mystery to a friend, from his companion to the mother of his child more quickly than he could even fathom. And he cherished her even more for it. Nothing would ever be able to replace the love he held in his hearts for her. After a moment, he heard her grunt uncomfortably from under her breath. He pulled away to see her face and raised his brow in response.

"Sorry, it's just… the metal. It's digging into my back," she declared, shifting herself to a better position. As her fingers grazed over the buttons on his vest, she gazed up at him with a heightened sense of provocativeness about her. "You know, it's a shame there's no bedroom in here. As far as snog boxes go, the TARDIS isn't exactly the most comfortable."

He playfully scoffed at her insensitivity and placed his hand upon the console, petting it tenderly. He glanced up at the rings above him and called out to his long-time vessel, "She didn't mean that!" Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached towards the controls and began typing a destination into the ship's interface. His other hand manoeuvred around his companion's side to grasp the lever behind her. He peered down at the form of his petite-sized prisoner captured between his arms and grinned mischievously. Without any warning, he pulled down on the lever and sent the TARDIS to its instructed coordinates.

"Where are we going?" she asked suspiciously, though remained intrigued by his sudden mysteriousness. It had been so long since he had taken her anywhere, she nearly forgot the excitement that accompanied the ship's signature clatter of time travel. The TARDIS landed almost as quickly as it dematerialized, the sound of its thudded landing alerted them to their intended arrival.

"Ask and you shall receive," he answered, returning his lips to hers. Taking a firm hold of her waist, he hurried to guide her back towards the ship's entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they burst their way through the doors straight into her flat. She laughed and yelped with surprise as he gracefully lifted and tossed her onto the bed. Standing above her, he threw off his coat and kicked off his shoes. She took the liberty of lifting her blouse over her head to relieve herself of it. He watched intently as she reached towards him and began unfastening the buttons on his vest then moved on to his shirt underneath. Helping her part ways with the rest of his clothing, he then climbed up onto the bed as she seized the opportunity to slide out of her skirt. Bringing his lips to hers, he slowly lowered her onto the bed and carefully pressed himself on top of her as if to prevent her from escaping.

He could feel her temperature rising beneath him the more passionately he kissed her. He was unable to help himself from being drawn to her intoxicating fragrance; a divine perfume of perfectly balanced femininity and fertility. His increased sensitivity to her reproductive desires was made even more aware by their strong bond to each other. The maternal mix of chemicals inside every cell in her body were exploding with sexual energy. The untamed animalistic side of him had become infatuated by her pheromones, his senses lured in by the irresistible scent of her body's heat-cycle urging her to conceive. He could feel himself losing all control. No matter how desperately he fought, there was nothing he could do to stop it. They were doomed to be enslaved by their illness' command.

He knew as long as the virus retained its hold over their minds, he would never be able to break free of his relentless desire to impregnate her. Just as she would never be able to sustain her maternal appetite for bearing his child for as long as she still could. A concept more concerning than he had given credit. His companion may in fact be a young female still in her prime, but she was still human. If he failed in his attempt to break them out of their loop, they would spend the rest of their infected lives trapped inside of this altered reality. As tempting as it would be to continue the relationship they created together, eventually there would come a time when Clara could no longer carry a child for him. What then? What would happen to her if she was unable to fulfil the obligations of her own mind? Of course, deep down, he already knew the answer to that whether he chose to admit it or not. He was no stranger to how the snare functioned within its victims. Those who were unfortunately selected to be a carrier of the virus were often driven to insanity after completing the task set out for them. Like trying to scratch an unscratchable itch until all the flesh had been scraped down to the bone, and yet the sensation still remained. Which was another reason why the Persuaders were considered so deadly. Clara had absolutely no idea what she was up against. All she knew was there was an incessant longing to fill the emptiness inside of her with new life that could only be tamed by him. The only way to prevent his companion from going mad before her age caught up with her was to try to teach her how to fight her urges - or give her what she wanted. She was only just beginning to gain back her strength after giving birth. Whatever sensible part of him was still remaining would not allow himself to put her through that again, especially if they were forced into battle against Missy. It would be far too dangerous.

He quickly pulled himself from her lips and gasped for breath. "Clara, wait. We need to stop," he blurted out without even realizing it.

"What, already?" she asked disappointedly. Her glance instinctively shifted to the area below his waist, "For a Time Lord, you sure do expire quickly."

"No, not __that__ ," he replied defensively. His mind worked quickly to find a way to tell her the truth without revealing the fact that he wasn't entirely in control of himself, and neither was she. It would raise far too many questions, questions that in his cowardice he wasn't yet ready to answer. "It's much too soon, you're still healing," he continued, hoping she would be understanding of his concern for her well-being. He cradled her head in his grasp and looked to her sincerely, "I don't wish to hurt you."

A coy smile spread across her lips as she leaned in towards his neck. "Be gentle then," she whispered into his ear, unwilling to abandon the much-anticipated intimacy taking place between them. She had waited for this moment for too long to allow it to slip through her fingers so easily.

"Clara," he started, trying his hardest to resist her increasing affections. "As much as I want this, and believe me I do, I'm afraid you've become far too susceptible to your biological impulses towards me," he explained poorly, starting to realize how badly he was failing at gaining control of the situation.

She leaned away to see his face and frowned at his choice of words. "Not sure how I feel about your expertise on the subject," she argued, then curiously raised her brow. "What do you mean 'susceptible'?"

He sighed and tried to find the words to respond that would sound the least impersonal. "Well, for one, your body has already begun the process of preparing itself for conception. I am able to sense the changes taking place inside of you through our bond. Which is reason enough for us to be keeping our distance from each other, else we may have another tiny problem on our hands," he declared, lightly patting her tummy as if to provide a gentle reminder of how their daughter came into existence in the first place. Taking a deep breath, he silently scolded himself for having fallen victim to his lust for her once again, "I shouldn't have brought you here, this was a mistake." He watched as her expression quickly shifted from provocatively inquisitive to mildly wounded. It was never his intention to upset her, he only wished to protect her from himself and what he knew they were capable of so long as the virus remained in control of their actions. The longer he remained in her presence the less authority he had over his own impulses. He placed his hand on her cheek and looked to her compassionately. "Please, try to understand. Being away from you is the last thing I would ever want. But if we aren't careful, you could be with child again before I can even get us out of this mess. We're still at war, Clara. Now is not the time for us to become so careless."

The fire within her grew in strength by his words of warning as if it were demanding she disobey. She felt every bit of its intensifying heat brought to life by the thought of what their lust for each other could cause. She no longer recognized herself as her mind became clouded by how badly she wanted to feel him inside of her again. As her hand gently trailed its way down his bare chest and stomach, she could feel a part of him pressing against her thigh. She raised her brow and smiled up at him seductively, "It would seem one of us is eager to become careless more than they're letting on." Her hand explored farther down his body until she found herself carefully caressing him between his legs. The part of her that would have been shocked by her own actions had been replaced by that of her strong sexual depravity longing for his affection.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head in submission, groaning softly at the sensation of her grasp on him. His mind shattered into a million pieces as she took control. He felt his entire body tremble with arousal. The ability to think rational thoughts was now under threat as his primal instincts awakened to the heat of their passion. His hearts became filled with hunger and lust for her once more. There was nothing in the universe powerful enough to stop it. The desire to fill her and protect her as she grew heavy by him consumed him. The only thing preventing him from ensuring his seed had taken root inside of her before the night's end was his fear of the immediate danger bound to follow as a result of his actions. Putting a child in her now would only give Missy that much more of an advantage over him. "Clara, please," he whispered, hoping there was some part of himself still able to resist his own impulses before they forced him to do something he shouldn't have. He needed to stop himself before the animal trapped inside tore its way through his defences to take control over their intimacy. The more he tried to hold it back the more he could feel it stirring within the cage that imprisoned it. "We must stop," he begged her.

She returned her lips to his neck and gently nipped at his skin before kissing her way towards his ear. "And if we don't?" she asked softly, no longer in command of her own sexual prowess as she positioned herself between his legs and delicately pressed her hips into him.

Every bit of restraint within him was annihilated the moment he felt himself brush up against her entrance. Her seductive advances had driven him far beyond the edge of all reason. The beast had finally awoken. His felt his eyes snap open. His hand reached out and took her firmly by her chin to stop her. "Then I might be tempted to give you exactly what your body desires of me," he threatened. His gaze stared back at her fiercely to warn her of just how serious he was. She had absolutely no idea what she was asking of him nor did she fully understand the gravity of what he was about to do to her.

The feel of his grasp on her was both frightening and yet strangely erotic. She had seen that look in his eyes before. It was the very same that burned into her memory not so long ago as the visions of their euphoric love for each other flashed into her mind. The longer she thought about them the more authentic they appeared. She realized this was the truth he had been hiding from her all this time, the part of himself he would not allow her to see for fear of hurting her. This is what he looked like when he lost himself in his passion for her, and she wanted more. As terrified as she should have been of the person he was becoming, a deeper part of herself buried somewhere beneath her layers of denial wanted to know just how far his lust for her would take them. There was only one person in the universe able to extinguish the fire burning so brightly inside of her, and that person was him. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, "I might be tempted to let you."

He found himself shocked and bewildered by her confession. Glancing towards his hand, his hearts became filled with distress over the aggressive hold he claimed on her face. He slowly released her and took a moment to compose himself before he unintentionally damaged her any further. He calmed his mind and allowed himself to come to terms with what she was asking him to do. He took a deep breath and peered down the length of her until his eyes met with her middle. He slowly slid his hand down her belly and carefully pressed it above the part of her that had ripened with fertility. A small gasp escaped her lips as he rubbed soothing circles over the place that once swelled with his child. Her breathing deepened the more he wooed her into maternal submission. He could feel her muscles contracting under his palm, her pulse began to quicken. The heat rising between her legs quickly claimed his attention. His mind was in torment over how close he was to seeding her and how badly her body was begging him to. Bringing his lips to her neck, he trailed tender kisses down her smooth skin and took in her scent for all it was worth. "Is that what you want?" he whispered, concentrating all of his energy towards conditioning her for reproduction. "Do you wish to carry again so soon? Would that please you?"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Doctor?" she inquired provocatively.

"Is it working?" he asked as his lips made their way down her chest.

"Yes," she spoke softly, feeling even more aroused by his intimidating power over her.

"Tell me what you want, Clara," he begged her. "I'll do anything you ask if only to satisfy you."

"I want you, Doctor. It has only ever been you," she replied breathlessly, feeling the sensation of his lips enticing her as they moved farther down her stomach.

Lifting his gaze, his eyes met her hungry expression. "Are you sure?" he asked, offering her one last chance to change her mind before the last bit of himself left untainted by the virus had finally been consumed.

"I'm sure," she confirmed, tenderly placing her hands on the sides of his head to guide his lips back to hers.

The familiar taste of her lingered upon him as they kissed. His senses had long since lost the battle for sanity as they continued to explore each other. His hearts pounded in his chest as he instinctively positioned himself at her entrance. His hand moved lower down her body to gently stimulate her before the rest of himself slowly slid its way inside. He softly moaned with pleasure as every bit of her warmth embraced him.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion and quietly winced at the unanticipated sensation of soreness and pain residing within her since she had given birth. Grasping his shoulder, she momentarily stopped him from proceeding any farther. "Be gentle with me, Doctor," she pleaded, exhaling a deep breath to soothe her mind from her sensitivity to him.

"Always," he replied adoringly. He waited patiently, allowing her all the time she required to prepare herself, then felt her opening wider to accommodate for him. Once ready, she nodded confidently and released the tension built up within her. Seizing his opportunity, he succumbed to his own tactical torment as he carefully penetrated her. All he could think about was what he needed to do to fulfil the obligations of his illness. The fine line between pleasure and strategy was never more apparent than it was right then. Each push brought him closer to his objective of creating new life inside of her. A task easily championed by his dominance over her vulnerable state of mind. As the virus continued to take control over his actions, his thoughts were once again flooded with images of the night she had been forced to conceive his child. The start of everything that had been and would be that even he could not avoid.

As he was pulled between one reality and another, a new set of visions were introduced that had yet to be seen. A bed, much like this one, and his companion lying partially unclothed beneath him. She smiled up at him brightly as he admired her from above. He saw himself peering down the length of her, his hand gliding its way up her bare thigh towards her hip. Continuing to her middle, he delicately slid his hand under her shirt to reveal the newly formed swell of her tummy hiding underneath. He gently brushed his fingers over the part of her just barely radiating with new life and smiled fondly. The return of her maternal glow was simply breathtaking. The Persuader's snare was flawless in design. Each new vision of her felt so real, he was unable to determine which reality he was currently living in. There was no way to know for certain if the images were merely the illusory byproduct of his illness or a glimpse into the future. All he knew was how badly he wanted it to be true.

The sound of her gasping with euphoria pulled him back to the moment between them. He discovered her legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, her hand had woven its way through his hair to gently seize it in her grasp. Their bodies glistened in the light provided as they fell deeper into their passion. He noticed fresh tears upon her face but realized they were not being caused by pain. He reached out to caress her cheek in his palm and wipe her tears away as he pushed himself deeper inside of her. She opened her eyes at his delicate touch, her entrancing gaze met his own as if she were pleading for more. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her pleasure. He was prepared to give her everything he had left to give, no matter the cost. He was so terribly in love with her.

* * *

Clara caught herself staring up at the shadows draped across her ceiling as if she had never seen them before. Her arm was loosely wrapped around her lover's head as she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through the strands of his silver hair. His head was rested against her chest as he listened in to the calming sound of her heart beating beneath him. Her thoughts teetered between the events of the evening and the soothing sensation of his thumb stroking the surface of her middle. "I've missed this," she finally spoke, breaking the silence in the room.

"Me too," he admitted, taking in her scent as his glance drifted towards the sight of his hand resting low on her belly.

"It smells so different in here. I almost forgot what the rest of the world smelled like beyond metal consoles and chalk dust."

"Now that you mention it, there does seem to be a particular Clara-esque aroma floating around in here," he noted.

"If that's code for I could do with a wash, I'm going to smack you," she threatened playfully.

"I'm glad you brought that up. I was worried I would have to break it to you," he teased her.

"Shut up," she hushed him, covering his mouth with her hand. She felt him quietly laugh against her and attempted to ignore his humour. Taking a look around the room, she tried to remember how it felt to have lived and breathed a normal life within those walls. "It's so strange being back here again," she continued. "I wonder how long I've been gone."

Lifting her hand from his face, he kissed it tenderly and held it in his grasp as he removed himself from under her arm. "Well, that depends," he started, shifting to her side and supporting his head with his other arm as he looked to her. "Technically speaking, I'd say about four months, give or take a day or two. Realistically, a few hours."

She attempted to wrap her head around his words, finding it difficult to grasp the fact that so little time had passed on Earth when so much had happened to her since she had last been seen by another human being. As far as anyone else was concerned, she was still grieving over the loss of her recently departed boyfriend while her body continued to expand with the growth of another man's child. As much as wanted to see her friends and family again, even if only to hear their voice, she couldn't even begin to imagine what to tell them. The more she thought about it the more she realized the Doctor was right. They shouldn't have come back here. The memories were far too painful. Distracting herself, she took a moment to look around the room as if searching for anything out of the ordinary. "Should we even be here? Won't that like, I dunno, implode the universe or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, "it's a bedroom, not a black hole." His eyes scanned the room as if taking into consideration that they had crossed beyond the point of safety by leaving the ship and were currently vulnerable to the outside world. "But just to be safe, perhaps it would be best if we didn't extend our stay any longer than we have to."

"Is there time to put the kettle on?" she asked with a bit of excitement. "I haven't had a decent cup in ages."

"What are you suggesting, that the TARDIS isn't capable of making tea?" he eyed her playfully. "You two have never gotten on, have you?"

"Or maybe she just never liked sharing," she countered with a smile. "Can't say I blame her though, you're quite the catch."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Oswald," he smiled back.

"Good, I'll only be a minute then," she assured him. She placed her hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Rolling to the side, she removed herself from the bed and rummaged around the floor for something a bit more than her nudity to wear. Finding his shirt, she placed it on and flipped her hair out from under the collar. "I hope you don't mind. Mine seems to be rather, um, misplaced at the moment."

"It looks better on you anyway," he stated, admiring her from the bed.

"A compliment? That's new. Someone's being naughty," she grinned.

"I wouldn't dare," he replied with a smirk.

Returning to the bed for just a moment, she braced her hands on the surface and leaned down to kiss his cheek before taking her leave of the room. Heading towards the kitchen, she passed through the hall and entered the small space. She quickly located the kettle sitting idly atop the counter and began to prep it. As she waited for the water to boil, she took a moment to look around the familiar place as if she were peering into a part of her past. She ran her hand along the utensils and appliances as if trying to remember how it felt to have utilized the space for its intended purpose. She recalled each and every unsuccessful attempt at making her mother's soufflé, the countless number of good times with her closest friends, the laughs she had laughed and the tears she had cried. All the memories of her previous life were there waiting for her return.

After a moment, she sensed the Doctor's presence approaching her from behind and assumed he was there to check on her. Leave it to him to worry about potential danger lurking about in the cupboards. She felt the warm sensation of his hands reaching around her waist to caress her middle as he pulled her closer to him. She leaned herself against him and allowed him to explore every bit of how different she must feel in his grasp now that she was no longer expanding with his child. "Did you miss me being so small in your arms?" she asked coyly.

"You've always been desirable to me. Even more so when you're carrying," he answered, breathing her in.

She lowered her glance to where his hands were protectively pressed over the place their child once flourished and smiled fondly, "Are you so eager to see me like that again?"

His lips found their way to her cheek and kissed her tenderly. "As many times as you wish," he whispered, slowly rubbing her between her hips as if encouraging her body to embrace the essence of life he placed inside of it. His paternal desire to ignite the spark of motherhood within her was far too enticing. His powers of persuasion over her were desperate to feel the electricity and warmth emanating from within her once more, knowing it would only be a matter of time before she'd start to show. The part of him that should have been ashamed of himself for putting her at risk of another pregnancy during this dangerous time was greatly outweighed by his eagerness to share this life with her. To be able to care for her and their children, to protect them.

The sensation of his hands on her body attempting to lure her in reawakened the arousal within her. Placing a gentle hand over his, she took a deep breath and cleared her mind hoping to take command over her diminishing willpower. "Well, Doctor Careful, if you keep that up, it may happen sooner than we expected," she replied, softly reminding him of his warning against her carrying another child for him while they were still at war.

"Yes, well, maybe the next one won't grow up trying to discover the best way to kill us," he added.

"The next one?" she asked, turning towards him to read his expression carefully. "You actually sound as if you __want__ this to be a thing. Do you?"

He inhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment about his answer. She hadn't made the decision to choose between their two possible futures any easier on him, but he couldn't deny the fact that one was far more desirable over the other. "Maybe so."

She smiled and felt her cheeks flush brightly as his intimate confession became the headline of her thoughts. "Are you trying to charm me into having another baby with you, Doctor? Or is this your nostalgia from the last time you pollinated me speaking for you?"

Grinning sheepishly at the question, he removed his hands from her middle and gently turned her around to face him. His arm wrapped around the small of her back as his other hand tenderly lifted her head by her chin to meet his gaze. "Perhaps it's both," he admitted sincerely, matching her wide smile with his own.

"Oh? And what about Missy?" she asked, raising her brow.

"What about her?"

"Aren't we still at war? Don't we still have a mission to complete?"

"That could be __ages__ from now!" he exclaimed childishly. "There's no telling what we could accomplish before then. Who knows. By the time we finally get around to it, perhaps we'll have created an entire army together," he grinned, holding her tightly against him.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," she noted with a laugh. "A Time Lord with baby fever, now there's something you don't see every day. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were under a spell," she implied harmlessly.

He felt his smile quickly fade away as his guilt of keeping her in the dark about their illness returned to the surface of his mind. He could not, nor wished to fault her for her accusation in this matter. She was purely innocent. It was the virus' control over them that deserved the full force of his rage. As he peered down at her brightly lit expression, he realized he no longer recognized who he was anymore nor could recall what his old self would have done in this situation. Perhaps he would have already chosen the path to save them from the grip of their altered reality at the cost of their relationship by now. But now that everything had been left up to this version of himself, being forced to choose between their two futures was tearing him apart. The Clara he knew would never have allowed him to become so selfish. The moment she would have discovered the existence of their illness, she'd have found a way to successfully do away with herself to save them long ago. She was so much stronger than him in nearly every way, which was the main reason he knew he'd never be able to bring himself to tell her the truth.

Willing a small smile to his face, he leaned down and lovingly kissed her forehead. "Don't be long," he finally replied. Looking to her one last time, he reluctantly released his hold on her then took his leave of the room before he had fallen apart in front of her any further.

Clara tried to determine what she said that suddenly darkened his mood but was easily distracted by the sound of the kettle finally whistling beside her. She took the time to prepare her cup then exited the small space. Returning to the hallway, her feet were comfortably reacquainted by the vibrant red carpet guiding the way in either direction. A rather nice change from the cold metallic flooring she was used to. Her attention was pulled towards the portraits of her family hanging up on the wall. She smiled as she approached them. Her fingers grazed along the surface of their frames as if she had never actually taken the time to look at them before. Finding her way to the living room, she leaned against the threshold and casually sipped her tea. As she glanced around the tiny room, her focus was drawn towards the coffee table sitting in the middle of the floor. Atop its surface sat a singular chess piece, one she had never seen before. "Doctor?" she instinctively called out to him from the doorway.

After a moment, he approached her from the bedroom. His hands worked to fasten his belt and trousers around his waist as he returned to her. "What's wrong?" he asked, taking notice of the worried expression on her face.

"Was that there before?" she inquired, gesturing towards the unfamiliar game piece.

Following her gaze, he felt his face frown as his eyes met with the object in question. "Seriously? Have you seen this place?" he asked, raising his arms out from his sides to call attention to the mess around him. "Frankly, I'd be surprised if there __wasn't__ a body buried in here somewhere. Let alone a chessboard."

"Very funny," she replied, frowning at his humour. "Except that I don't own a chessboard."

"Are you sure? Perhaps you just never noticed it under all the clutter," he suggested.

Annoyed by the accusation, she squinted her eyes in his direction, "I'm sure."

His brows furrowed suspiciously as his interest became piqued by the apparent mystery unravelling before them. Entering the room, he headed towards the object and cautiously reached for it as if it might explode upon contact. Assuring himself it was not a danger to them, he picked it up and brought it closer for inspection. Twirling the piece around in his hand, he quickly identified it as a pawn. A smile quickly spread across his face as he suddenly realized who left the mysterious gift there for them to find.


End file.
